hen helicopters touched down in the mountains in early
March at the start of the deadliest battle for Americans in
Afghanistan, the infantrymen who rushed out immediately came under
surprisingly intense fire. Bursts from rifles and machine guns were
joined by explosions from well-placed mortar rounds, a coordinated
mix of firepower that is one mark of a capable military force.
Specialist Wayne Stanton, a 10th Mountain Division soldier who
was wounded in the skirmish, later paid his foes a soldier's
grudging compliment. "They knew what they were doing," he said.
The Taliban and Al Qaeda resistance near Gardez was a bracing
display for fighters who, despite their appearance as a ragged band
of fanatics, had achieved a level of competence that American
military officials say was on par with the world's best guerrilla
forces. It also demonstrated the degree to which Osama bin Laden and
other jihad leaders had turned Afghanistan's network of training
bases and guest houses, typically described as terror schools, into
a sort of two- tiered university for waging Islamic war.
Details of the training emerge in hundreds of documents and
thousands of pages collected from those schools by reporters from
The New York Times, and from interviews with American government and
military officials.
The documents — including student notebooks, instructor lesson
plans, course curriculums, training manuals, reference books and
memorandums — show that one tier, by far the busiest, prepared most
of the men who enlisted in the jihad to be irregular ground
combatants, like those who repulsed the 10th Mountain Division's
helicopter-borne assault. The other provided a small fraction of the
volunteers with advanced regimens that prepared them for terrorist
assignments abroad.
American military instructors who reviewed the documents said the
first tier of instruction was sophisticated in a conventional
military sense, teaching, one said, "a deep skill set over a narrow
range" that would reliably produce "a competent grunt." The second
tier was similarly well organized, albeit with more sinister
curriculum.
Implicit in the split levels of training was the Islamic groups'
understanding of the need for different sets of skills to fight on
several, simultaneous fronts: along trench lines against the
Northern Alliance in Afghanistan; against armor or helicopter
assaults from conventional foes in Chechnya; as bands of foot-mobile
insurgents in Kashmir, Central Asia or the Philippines; and as
classic terrorists quietly embedded in cities in the Middle East,
Africa, the former Soviet Union and the West.
To instill these diverse lessons, the schools applied ancient
forms of instruction — teachers pushing students to copy and
memorize detailed tables and concepts — to modern methods of
killing. Michael R. Hickok, a professor at the Air War College in
Montgomery, Ala., said they used "Islamic pedagogy to teach Western
military tactics."
Evident as well in the documents, which were translated for The
Times, were signs that in developing martial curriculums, the groups
were cannily resourceful in amassing knowledge. Some lessons were
drawn from manuals from the former Soviet Union. Others, the use of
Stinger missiles or Claymore mines, were derived from instruction
underwritten by the Pentagon and the Central Intelligence Agency in
the 1980's, when Washington backed the Afghan resistance against
Soviet occupation.
In the years after the Soviets withdrew and American money
evaporated, the groups aggressively cribbed publicly available
information from the United States military and the paramilitary
press. Ultimately, American tactics and training became integral
parts of the schools.
One camp, used by the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, gave
instruction in movements by four-man fire teams that was modeled
after formations used by the United States Marine Corps, according
to military instructors who reviewed it. The Uzbeks also used
reconnaissance techniques long taught at the Army's Ranger School in
Fort Benning, Ga. Other documents show that jihadi explosives
training covered devices and formulas lifted from a Special Forces
manual published in 1969.
While these materials are available through open sources, from
on-line booksellers to rural gun shows, military officials said it
was a feat to digest far-flung sources, translate them into Arab and
Asian languages and assemble them in an orderly way. Bomb-making
instruction, for instance, combined the electrical engineering
necessary to make detonation systems with Vietnam-era Army formulas
for home- brewed explosives, then was translated into Arabic, Uzbek
and Tajik. "It indicates a tremendous amount of filtering and
organization to get to that," an American military instructor
said.
Moreover, notebooks from several camps demonstrate that even in
courses taught in different languages and hundreds of miles apart,
many lessons were identical, sharing prose passages, diagrams and
charts. This was an important achievement, military officials said,
as it created compatibility between members of what essentially
became an Islamic foreign legion.
It also marked a significant advance beyond training that the
United States sponsored for Afghans in the 1980's.
"One of the problems we had against the Soviets was getting the
mujahedeen to be uniform," said an American official familiar with
that movement. "We couldn't get them on the same page. When you went
to one valley, they fought one way. When you went to the next, they
fought another. To the extent these guys were able to level the
training and make it consistent, they were on the right track."
Core Curriculum
Afghanistan's dozen or so jihad schools were hard, spartan
places, compounds with dusty classrooms in arid mountains or on the
sun-baked steppe where men hunched over note pads and applied an
ageless form of learning to guerrilla war. Outside were obstacle
courses and mazes of barbed wire and trenches for infantry drills.
Inside, men slept on mats in buildings made of mud.
Jihad groups had the means to reproduce lesson plans in bulk, and
distribute them in neat folders, as most modern militaries do. But
they chose not to, opting instead to have students copy material by
longhand, meticulously following instructors who stood before the
class. Dr. Charles P. Neimeyer, a dean at the Naval War College in
Newport, R.I., said camps treated each student "like a monk in a
monastery in the Middle Ages."
From these carefully scribed records, dropped or discarded last
fall by recruits and the veterans who trained them, a pattern
emerges.
The core curriculum began simply. It opened with classes in
Kalashnikov rifles, the hardy series of automatic weapons designed
in the Soviet Union after World War II and since then exported
worldwide. The weapons were the predominant arms in Taliban and
Qaeda formations, and the jihadis, like American recruits learning
to master M-16's, studied their history, design and operation. Then
they turned to PK machine guns, 82-millimeter mortars and the RPG-7,
a shoulder-fired rocket effective against armored vehicles and
trucks.
Each class began with a modicum of history then plunged into
important facts: names of components, steps to dismantle and clean
them, characteristics of different munitions, steps to clear
misfires and jams.
Together, the classes served as infantry weaponry 201, a course
mastered by rote.
Students copied sections on how to fine- tune a rifle sight at
short range to ensure accuracy at longer distances, a procedure
known as zeroing. They recorded sections on directing rockets or
controlled bursts of bullets and tracers at moving targets, on the
ground or in the air. They reviewed several different shooting
scenarios, scribbling down technical solutions for each.
The training, Professor Hickok said, was "a lot more
sophisticated than a bare-bones, simple, `Here is your weapon, go
forth.' "
American tactics instructors who reviewed the notebooks were
similarly impressed. "They have standardized targets throughout
their program of instruction," one said. "That's good stuff. That's
professional. It shows you have standards, you have some level of
shooting that's acceptable and not."
Most students also trained on the tripod- mounted heavy machine
guns and antiaircraft pieces, which Afghan soldiers use to spray
flak at planes but also to control roads, valleys and mountain
passes. Some received classes covering the Dragunov, a sniper rifle
with a telescopic sight.
Others studied portable antiaircraft missiles, including the
American Stinger, the British Blowpipe and the Russian Grail.
American officials have said concerns about these weapons in certain
regions of Afghanistan kept coalition airplanes at high elevations,
— out of the missiles' range, during sorties. (One American military
official said a Stinger or Blowpipe was fired at a pair of United
States Navy aircraft last fall. The pilots took evasive actions. The
missile passed narrowly between them.)
Veterans also led their charges through demolition instruction
covering mines and grenades, as well as TNT and plastic explosives.
This training — seen in notebooks from Mazar-i-Sharif and Al Farouk,
where the Talib from California, John Walker Lindh, trained — was
geared for combat rather than terrorism, said American instructors
who reviewed it. It surveyed the equipment and skills needed to mine
roads, create obstacles or destroy infrastructure on the
battlefield.
"It's not like, `How can you sneak an explosive onto a plane?' "
a senior instructor with extensive demolition experience said. "It
shows how you could blow up a bridge before it's crossed by the
infidel regiment."
Similarly, lessons on booby traps — rigging explosives for
surprise detonation, as when a pedestrian steps on a pad and closes
an electric circuit, or crosses a trip wire and releases a time
fuse's pin — resembled classes for American marines and soldiers,
who are taught to create makeshift weapons for ambushes and
defensive positions.
"That's the poor man's B-52, the booby traps," the instructor
said. "They're effective; they're cheap and fairly easy to rig. The
instructions in these notebooks would work."
But other subjects, which appear menacing in student notes —
briefcase bombs, truck bombs or bombs that would detonate when a
spring is depressed in a couch or bed — lacked enough detail to be
effective, the instructors said. Their inclusion most likely served
a clever purpose: giving students a sense of esprit with terrorists
who had struck American embassies in Africa and military barracks in
the Middle East.
"Most of that stuff with demolitions is motivational," the senior
instructor said. "They've had huge successes with truck bombs
against us, so they are going to use the truck bomb in the
curriculum to reinforce the success, even if they do not
realistically expect each of these guys to use a truck bomb. It
reinforces their way of doing business. It reinforces their
heritage."
Diverse Recruits
As the jihad camps grew during the 1990's, recruits arrived from
at least 15 nations and speaking more than a half- dozen languages,
conditions that posed a challenge for a force hoping to be cohesive.
The documents show that the Islamic groups developed a uniform
training program that assimilated recruits with different cultures
and skills.
Reviews of notebooks from in or near Kunduz, Kabul, Rishkhor,
Mazar-i-Sharif and Kandahar turn up the same hand-drawn diagrams for
classes in weaponry, map reading, celestial navigation, trench
digging, mortar employment and demolition.
The similarities bridge social differences and speak of the
jihad's effective network. "The classes have the same prearranged
instructor scripts, because you see the exact same classes being
given in different years, different regions, different languages,"
said an American tactics instructor.
Another added: "This is why you can take so many different ethnic
groups — foreigners, Afghans, people from either side of the Hindu
Kush — and you can put them together, and they can fight together.
They all have the same basic skills."
Moreover, the lessons were what curriculum experts call
"modular," meaning self- contained. A student need not complete
Lesson A to be ready for Lesson B. "That's a pretty sophisticated
way to do this curriculum," said Professor Hickok, who reviewed
several notebooks. "It makes the curriculum pretty adaptable."
It also allowed instructors to mix and match lessons for each
jihad group's particular needs.
Recruits of the Pakistani group Harkat- ul-Mujahedeen received
instruction in M- 16's, American-made rifles they could encounter
while fighting in Kashmir, the disputed territory divided between
Pakistan and India. Students trained to fight in Central Asia or
Afghanistan, where M-16's are all but nonexistent, skipped these
weapons.
In the end, the camps avoided almost entirely the painstaking
rituals of state-run militaries: the weeks spent on proper wearing
of uniforms, or marching, or procedures of garrison life and
administration. They remained focused on jihad indoctrination and
fighting skill.
"They are leaving the bureaucracy out, and teaching them a couple
of basic things very, very well," one instructor said. "It is a
classic saying: Master the basics; become brilliant at the basics.
If you take care of those, when the time comes for combat, you'll do
better than okay."
American officials estimate that 20,000 men received this
training since Mr. bin Laden moved from Sudan to Afghanistan in
1996. Today they are scattered. Many died in airstrikes. Others were
taken prisoner. Some were executed by the Northern Alliance. How
many remain, and how organized they are, is unknown.
Advanced Courses
Although standard jihad training prepared recruits for ground
combat, the line between guerrilla and terrorist could often grow
fuzzy. Basic courses provided a martial foundation, and government
officials said that with initiative and further study, the graduates
could develop specialized terrorist skills, much as Timothy McVeigh,
once a conventional American infantryman, later built the truck bomb
that killed 168 people in Oklahoma City.
Al Qaeda and other groups did not leave this evolution entirely
to chance. They were trying to do more than use guerrilla insurgents
to topple Muslim governments they saw as secular or corrupt. They
had declared war against infidels and were eager to carry the battle
to where the infidels lived.
To further this end, students with special abilities were
identified in basic camps and sent to courses that prepared them for
more difficult missions. "We look at it as sort of being a winnowing
process," an American official said. "There is sort of a scouting
process going on."
Only a very small fraction of the jihadis are thought to have
received the higher level of training, government officials say, but
it was enough to improve the guerrilla forces and to turn loose a
resourceful breed of killer on the larger world.
"Afghanistan," said Michael A. Sheehan, the State Department's
counterterrorism coordinator during the last years of the Clinton
administration, "was the swamp these mosquitoes kept coming out
of."
There were two tracks: one for advanced infantry techniques,
another for terror.
Infantry classes refined battlefield skills. One course, detailed
in a notebook from Kunduz, was intermediate-level instruction in
82-millimeter mortars. Another, described in a syllabus found in
Kabul, taught advanced land navigation. A third described using
global positioning satellites and a scientific calculator to plot
artillery firing data.
Records showed that as guerrillas advanced, their roles sometimes
blurred. A series of courses, taught by Harkat and repeatedly
described as a curriculum for "commandos," included instruction in
sniping, interrogation, first aid, escape, evasion and hand-to-hand
combat — all infantry tasks. But as the course progressed, its
objectives grew darker, including "how to kill a policeman" and
"traps, murder and terrorist moves."
Other courses also had military or terrorist applications,
including one in espionage and another in secure communications,
which has been effectively used by terrorist cells abroad.
Some lessons were wholly dedicated to terror.
Bomb-making instruction included recipes for brewing explosives
and crude poisons from readily obtainable substances, including
making an explosive booster beginning with a paste of ground aspirin
and water.
The class further covered the manufacture, handling and storage
of nitroglycerin, HMDT, C-4 and C-3. One document began with an
explanation of the instructor's goals.
"God Almighty has ordered us to terrorize his enemies," it reads.
"In compliance with God's order and his Prophet's order, in an
attempt to get out of the humiliation in which we have found
ourselves, we shall propose to those who are keen on justice,
fighting against those who oppose them and those who diminish them
until they receive fresh orders from God. To those alone, we
present: `Rudimentary Methods in the Manufacturing of Explosive
Materials Effective for Demolition Purposes.' "
Instructors included enough electrical engineering — uses of
diodes, resistors, switches and more — to help students plan the
wiring, power sourcing and fuses required to spark an explosive
charge. Notebooks also included tips for putting familiar objects to
nefarious use, like converting a hand set for a radio-controlled toy
boat into a remote detonator. Government officials said those
methods would work, in the right person's hands.
"This isn't for everybody," a senior American military instructor
said. "This is for somebody who is smart."
Dr. Kamal Beyoghlow, a professor at the Marine Corps Command and
Staff College in Quantico, Va., and a former counterterrorism
officer at the State Department, said the curriculum reflected care
and deliberation.
"The lesson is very well organized, extremely organized," he
said. "It is the work of a methodical hand."
The jihad groups clearly were proud of it, and eager to pass its
lessons around. One notebook ended with an Arabic passage: "We ask
you, dear brother, to spread around this document on all the
mujahedeen. Do not keep what you know a secret, if you please."
Graduates from courses like those — resourceful, smart men who
have used simple materials to produce bombs that destroyed two
American embassies and crippled a Navy warship — are the jihadis the
government most fears, particularly if they were to expand their
capabilities to include nuclear, chemical or biological weapons.
The American-led coalition says it has turned up no evidence that
the men had reached this point, although they were actively
educating themselves in the subject. But current and former
officials warned that even if they lacked the technology or skill to
make such weapons themselves, they still might deliver a terrifying
blast. "What worries me," Mr. Sheehan said, "is their ability to get
their hands on a weapon someone else has put together."
Experts also said they feared that bomb- making skills taught in
advanced classes would be sufficient for making a "dirty bomb," in
which spent radioactive material could be lashed to high explosives
for a mildly radioactive blast.
Officials said papers from Kabul explaining uses of radioactive
isotopes in agriculture and medicine, found in the same rooms as the
explosive notebooks, indicate research into precisely that sort of
weapon.
Military Models
All successful military organizations study one another, sizing
up threats, identifying weaknesses, copying weapons and tactics. The
jihad groups were no exception.
Law enforcement officials have described a multivolume set of
terrorist instructions, dubbed the Encyclopedia of the Afghan Jihad,
as a sort of master guide for the camps. Parts of the encyclopedia
were found by The Times at four training sites, and officials said
parts of its explosives section were incorporated into classes at
the camps.
But records from students and teachers also show that most jihad
courses lasted several weeks to a few months and that rather than
covering the encyclopedia's breadth, stayed intensely focused on
small sets of skills. To create those classes, the groups relied
heavily on an array of sources obtained from the West: military
training manuals, American hunting magazines, anarchist manuals,
popular action movies, chemistry and engineering textbooks, and Web
sites hawking James Bond-like tricks.
Signs of this collection effort are sprinkled throughout their
documents. American military trainers who reviewed the jihadi
students' notes quickly identified lessons from their own playbooks,
including Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan reconnaissance techniques
also used by Army Rangers, or four-man weapon deployments and
formations — wedges, columns, echelons, lines — that are the Marine
Corps standard.
One senior military instructor noticed a familiar streak of
professionalism in class schedules, a carefully selected mix of
lectures, demonstrations and practice. "Wherever they got this, it
was modeled after somebody's program," he said. "It was not made by
some guys on some goat farm outside of Kabul."
He was right. It had been cribbed from an appendix in a Marine
Corps manual seeking to standardize sniper training, a copy of which
was found with terrorist course schedules in a Harkat house in
Kabul.
American influence also appears in jihadi explosives courses. For
instance, chapters from the "Improvised Munitions Handbook," a
United States Army manual published in 1969, were found by a Times
reporter in the same Kabul guest house. Ink tracing on its pages
show that it had been translated into Arabic. The manual, according
to its introduction, was intended "to increase the potential of
Special Forces and guerrilla troops by describing in detail the
manufacture of munitions from seemingly innocuous locally available
material."
It seems to be fulfilling its mission. The manual's diagram for
using a laundry pin as part of a trip-release firing circuit was
used in the basic demolition instruction at the Farouk camp. Other
lessons, including how to make an antipersonnel bomb from a light
bulb, were found in an advanced demolition notebook. (The light bulb
device is similar to a weapon shown in a scene in the Burt Reynolds
movie "The Longest Yard." The jihadis translated the manual to learn
an additional step, as well as a way to use bulbs as detonators in
larger bombs.)
This sort of resourcefulness is reminiscent of another Afghan
war, current and former officials said. In the 1970's the Soviet
Union trained a cadre of Afghan Army officers in its military
academies, teaching them leadership and tactics. When the Soviet
Army came in, many switched sides.
"These officers knew the Soviet Union's armor doctrine, and when
the Russians tried to go up the valleys, some of them were right
there, directing ambushes," said Dr. Joshua Spero, a professor at
Merrimack College in Massachusetts and former Central Asia military
planner for the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
But officials also noted that the breadth of the camps'
curriculum search resulted in uneven quality. Some material was
well- chosen, some not. Harkat had obtained a copy of "The
Poisoner's Handbook," a book commonly sold by survivalist stores in
the United States. Its information is insufficient for making
mass-casualty weapons. "It's nonsense," one official said.
(The effort resembled some attempts to gather nuclear materials.
Officials said, for instance, that Al Qaeda members have been duped
by swindlers and sold bogus goods.)
Officials also said even useful references could be problematic.
One said that while cautious handlers could use some Special Forces
bomb recipes, others would endanger themselves. "People have had to
be scraped off of their ceilings after trying these things," he
said.
The jihadis seemed to know this. One notebook warned: "Make sure
that first aid kits are available at all times in order to deal with
any mishaps that might result from the performance of this
experiment."
Whatever the shortfalls, the two tiers of training worked.
The small number of graduates of the top tier have struck
American targets in Africa, the Middle East, Washington and New
York. In 1999 customs officers caught another alumnus, Ahmed Ressam,
with a functional bomb and plans to explode it at Los Angeles
International Airport.
The battle near Gardez demonstrated that when American soldiers
come down from the sky and fight within machine-gun range, the
guerrillas have the training to turn them back. Two days after
Specialist Stanton's unit withdrew, American soldiers again came
under fire from machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades, this
time as they tried to recover the body of Petty Officer Neil
Roberts, a Navy Seal.
By the end of that day, seven Americans were dead.