Spy or Scam?

One of the great water-cooler debates currently raging among intelligence-watchers is whether self-described spy Omar Nasiri is the real deal, or if his cloak-and-dagger tale of infiltrating al-Qaeda is an unverifiable get-rich-quick scam. According to his new book, Inside the Jihad: My Life With Al Qaeda, A Spy's Story, the Moroccan-born author (who uses Nasiri as a pseudonym) says he spent nearly seven years leading a dangerous double life as an informer for European intelligence services on the activities of his brothers-in-jihad, including vivid detail of combat and explosives training in Afghan camps, and his clandestine work within al-Qaeda's European cells. His anecdotes are compelling; his insight into the motives and commitment of extremists chilling; his resentment palpable at being discarded by Western spy agencies once they decided his value was spent.

In other words, Nasiri's story is a gripping read — but that doesn't mean it's true.

"The absolutely massive attention Islamist terrorism has gotten since September 11 has created a lucrative field for real and bogus analysts, experts, commentators — and even repented extremists," says one French counter-terrorism expert, who says his own inquiry among colleagues has yet to find anyone confirming Nasiri's alleged work for the French. "It's ironic that in this rush to cash in on terrorism, the charlatans usually scream louder than people with valuable information. Is that Nasiri's case — is he lying? I don't know. Am I skeptical? Absolutely. Will we ever find out if he's legitimate or not? I doubt it."

The reason is that only the handlers in the French, British, and German agencies that Nasiri claims to have worked for could confirm his legitimacy — and they'll never dish. "Even intelligence documents circulated within secret services won't ever say who informants are, or even identify exactly where they are active," the French official comments. Why such inner-circle security? Because circles can develop holes. "Getting informants deep inside operative groups is so rare — and the information obtained from them so potentially vital — that agencies will do anything to protect those sources," he explains. Such care also means anyone who knows if Nasiri's tale is true wouldn't dare step up and confirm it even now, fearing that might draw suspicion to moles who may now be hidden among jihadists. But those same officials also won't bother denying fabricated claims of espionage — no matter how high-profile — since setting that precedent means "officials would have to confirm or deny the validity of every future claim or book if they didn't want resumed silence to be interpreted as passive confirmation."

"The only other people who could confirm whether this story is true or false are the author's former al-Qaeda comrades," the official says with a laugh. "And as frequently flawed terror reporting and vapid books by so-called experts attests to, those people don't write many letters of denial to newspaper editors or publishers to set the record straight."

The best effort to test Nasiri's claims have come through partial corroboration of certain aspects by the BBC. Nasiri got further backing by former CIA senior intelligence officer and al-Qaeda expert Michael Scheuer, who said details in the book rang true to what intelligence officials knew about training in Afghan camps and the operations of some underground cells — and vouched for certain information he'd seen earlier in classified form. Doubters retort that much information and even video of training camps has been made public over the years, along with vast reporting on extremist activity and thinking. Using all of that, it wouldn't take an Arabic speaker with a little access to radical circles — and a sharp imagination — to create a credible-sounding story.