Chapter 1: Ramzi Al-Noor

We'll start with the chilling story of a young college student named Ramzi Al-Noor, age 20. The perfect example of an innocent man caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Accused of a crime he didn't commit, guilt by association damned him to a horrible spree of torture that he--and you--probably thought could only happen in Abu Ghraib prison… This was shortly after the sweeping ratification of the infamous "Homeland Security Amendment of 2006", of which more will follow. Trading liberty for security yields neither security nor freedom nor justice, as you will soon see…

It didn't take long for them to break me. Everyone breaks eventually. You have to. It's all a matter of time. They took me one evening in the middle of the semester. Some guy, from my school apparently, had blown himself up in a busy train station not too far from campus. He was in our campus' Muslim Student Association. So was I. They blamed us all, called us all…terrorists. We were all suspects, so they eventually took me and everyone else, I suspect, to be "investigated."

Let me tell you exactly what "investigate" means, friend.

First off, they came to my dorm in the evening while I was trying to study. They banged on the door and demanded I come out to see them. I figured it was just campus security making their rounds, and maybe they were just in a bad mood. Maybe it was a noise violation; I thought nothing of it. So I went to the door and they asked for me by name. "We have a warrant for your arrest Mr. Al-Noor" they said. Why? "On suspicion of conspiracy and espionage and questionable association under the terms of the Homeland Security Amendment of 2006."

That shocked me. I wasn't a spy. I wasn't! And I just kind of froze there for a moment, letting it all sink into my brain, what they'd just said. And my roommate tried to stick up for me, saying I was innocent, but the cops told him to shut up or else he'd be arrested too. They had guns. I wasn't going to try to fight them. I went away with them. They handcuffed me and paraded me out so that the whole dorm could see me…in shame. My neighbors must've all thought I was part of Al-Qaeda. They snickered and pointed and stared and gasped. Some idiots even applauded as I passed them in cuffs.

Next thing I knew, I was in a little dark room and I was handcuffed to the table so I can't run. There were a bunch of guys there. One of them went up to me, looked me right in the eyes, said to me, "OK, here's the deal. Someone from your group, the Muslim Student association, committed an act of terror. He blew himself up at the train station near campus. He killed about ten people and himself. We're getting hold of anybody who would know something, such as you Muslim kids. We know you're all a tight-knit bunch and we know you in particular happened to know the bomber. We're gonna ask you some questions and if you cooperate you'll be fine."

Well, he said something along those lines. He meant business. So I told him, "Look, I didn't know the guy well. I didn't know he was planning anything. I can't help you, sorry." And here you have to imagine, I was still shocked upon learning that the bombing had been done by someone from my own school, by an acquaintance of mine no less…so I was pretty shaken by it all. And I explained that to them.

They didn't buy that. They said they read my emails. I know President Bush and the government had been doing that for a long time with help from the NSA; the story came out just a couple of years before, at the end of 2005. They were spying on us and there was a big fuss about it but only for a while. The New Year's Eve terror attack in '06 saw to that. But anyway, I was shocked that they'd been spying on me. Like I said, everyday was suspect, even if you were, like, the friend of the brother of a girl whose friend's uncle worked for a company that was funneling funds that ended up in terrorist hands.

I wasn't telling those guys anything they wanted to hear, because I couldn't. I didn't know anything. I told them I wasn't involved too much in the Muslim Student Association. I told them I minded my own business pretty much, that I went to their worship services and attended some fundraisers and events… And they cut me off. "How much did you give?" I said, "Maybe fifty bucks." One of them sneered. "Well, do you know that fifty bucks of yours might've ended up financing that bastard's suicide bombing? Huh? Did you know that? Did you even stop to think about what kind of people you were involving yourself in?"

The bomber was the treasurer of the MSA, and they told me how the guy took money from the groups to what's called a "hawala", a money lender, and it was sent to some little group calling itself the Martyr's Memorial Brigade, in Palestine. They said he'd used the rest of the MSA's money to finance his own bombing. And they told me they found this out by spying on us for a year.

I didn't know any of that. I told them the truth but they didn't believe me. As far as they were concerned, they had a quota to fill, they wanted to do a dragnet, and they took me in to find out whatever whisper of info they thought they could get. The Homeland Security Amendment said they had to do this…whatever. And they wouldn't give up until they got it. They said I was lying and that it was typical for people to lie at first, to protect people, but they'd confess later.

They took me away and I ended up in a big, ugly building in town. The county jail. It was the middle of the night. They made me sign papers, took my fingerprints, photographed me, took away my clothes, and stuck me in an orange jumpsuit, like a common criminal. They put me in a little windowless room and kept me there for a long time.

I don't know how long they kept me in that room, alone. I lost track of time. One day? Two? Three? It felt like forever. I kept screaming, pleading, "I'm not a terrorist! I'm not a spy! I'm just a college student! What did I do to deserve this!" It was no use. I didn't bother quoting the Constitution to tell them they were wrong for doing this to me. Everyone keeps saying that "the world has changed," that we have to be "tough" and "send a message to the terrorists." And some nonsense about freedom. What freedom! I was in a cell, an innocent man!

The central message in all of this, of course, is that all people are suspect in the event of terrorism, especially if you live the Islamic lifestyle or come from a country where it's common.

Eventually they'd take me to be interrogated every day, then twice daily. They told me they'd searched my dorm. They told me they'd searched my home. They told me my roommate had sold me out to the cops. They told me they read my emails and listened to my phone calls, that they'd bugged my phone and knew "everything". They told me that my family was going to be relocated to one of the new "preventive internment districts" and kept under house arrest there unless I talked. They threatened to deport me. They said all this to scare me into confessing something I wasn't involved in.

It got worse.

They…they…it's so hard, so embarrassing. All right, I guess I have to tell you…just to be totally honest and frank about my experience. They…violated me. Yeah, they did. They…oh God…they took me one night to be interrogated again. At least, that's what I assumed. They took me to a bathroom though, and there was another prisoner there. I recognized him; he was one of the brothers from the Muslim Student Association. Maybe he'd refused to talk too.

I wanted to say something, talk to him, ask him if he was okay and how he was managing to survive this, but the guards hit me when I opened my mouth to speak. And then they told us both to take off our clothes! And here I am, thinking we were about to be strip searched again, but…no.

So, they made us stand against that dirty bathroom wall, in that cold room. One of my feet splashed into a small puddle of something…water…pee? I had no way to tell. Oh God help me…I don't even want to talk about it…but anyway…

They asked us the same questions as always. "Who are you?" "What's your involvement with the MSA?" "How long did you know about this financial support for terrorism?" "How often did the bomber talk to you?" "What did he tell you about his plan?" "How much money did you give him?" "What are your political views?" "Why did you not say anything about this before?"

I was scared. So was my classmate. And I just repeated the same tired answers as always. I had nothing else to say. I was cold. I was so embarrassed, standing in front of a group of angry men, naked for all of them to see. It was so humiliating. But still they weren't accepting my answers. "You're lying! You're a couple of lying bastards and we know because we've been monitoring you all for a long time! We know it all, and if you don't confess, bad things are gonna happen to all of you!"

And then they all gathered behind me, wrestled me to the floor and pinned me down. They screamed in my ear, "Talk! Talk!" and I was yelling, "I told you all I know! Don't do this! Why? Why…me?" On and on I kept pleading with them, but nothing came of it. They absolutely refused to believe a single word I said in my defense.

And then…I felt something horrible. The pain…oh God save me, the pain! The pain was so unbearable! Something hard and cold entered me from behind. It felt like…like an invasion…of my body and soul! They put this thing--no, they shoved it in me, over and over, and it was hurting so much, like it was tearing me up inside. Whatever it was they were plunging into me--a nightstick maybe, I don't know--they kept doing it over and over, I can't even remember how long. When I yelped in pain they hit me hard. I had to bear this in silence.

Suddenly everything went dark around me. A blindfold…or a bag, I can't even remember because it was so intense. They made me get on my knees, on that hard floor. I heard laughing and some jeering, and also someone whimpering in front of me. My classmate must've been standing in front of me. I felt something hot and wet trickling to the floor in front of me, splashing on me. It smelled…like pee. He was pissing himself out of fear! And they laughed and made fun of him. Then they made me touch his leg and told me they'd beat me up and sodomize me again if I didn't.

They also…made me touch…they actually made me touch…his… I--I don't even want to say it--it's shameful and wrong for a Muslim man to do such a thing. I hope God can forgive me because it was against my will. They made me put my hand on…it, and I could feel it, like it was a snake trying to wriggle free. I could even feel it grow just a little in my hand, and my poor classmate, he was just whining and sobbing. I could barely hear him over all the jeering and laughing.

I heard a lot of little clicking sounds. Were they taking pictures of this? Bastards! Taking pictures of me and my humiliation! All for fun! All just to break my spirit!

They started asking us the same questions as before, telling us that we'd go to Hell if we didn't talk this time. They asked us some new questions, things I won't even mention. It's disgusting, the things they said and insinuated about us. They threatened to show the photos to our families and our school if we didn't answer correctly. They said, "Well, we already have all the evidence we need, people talked because they were afraid and didn't want to end up in the same situation as you. They were smart, unlike you both! Now, all you have to do is confess and it'll all be over!"

I heard my poor classmate scream again. Then I heard people closing in around him and shouting and hitting him and, oh God…I think they even sodomized him too… I'm not sure--I know he was yelling and praying to God for mercy, to end this torture. So maybe they did that awful thing to him. They certainly wasted no time at all in violating me again. I felt that horrible pain…of being invaded…they put the thing in and shoved it around like they were churning butter or something--that's the only way I can think to describe it--and the bastards wouldn't stop despite my pleas. I think they took more photos because I heard more clicking sounds over al the cheering and yelling and questions they kept barking to me.

I tried to think about God…God will help me somehow…God is great…God is great…Allahu akbar…Allahu akbar…

I shouted it out loud. I couldn't help it. "Allahu akbar. Labaik Allahumma, labaik!" God is great, I hear your call, O God! And they heard it and hit me with their sticks. I couldn't see it coming and I couldn't see anything because of the blindfold. What would they do next. Whatever they would do, I wouldn't see it coming before it was too late. I have no words for that terror. You can't even imagine it. Not in your worst nightmares.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I finally gave up and confessed…even though I made it all up, lying about things that never happened and that I wasn't involved in. I told them I was in on the bomber's plan. I told them I thought of joining him. I told them I looked up to bin Laden as a hero. I told them what they wanted to hear, in order to fill their quota or whatever they needed. I talked. I just wanted it to stop. Please God make it stop…please God make it stop…

They used my false confession as evidence to convict me. I was put in jail and kept there for many years. I still have the scars all over me from what they did to me all those years…physical scars…mental scars that will never heal. I relive the terror every day of my life.

OK, I don't think I can talk about this anymore. I just told you a little bit, but you think that's bad? Try living it. You…you people can't even imagine it. If you did…you'd probably go nuts. Now, I think I can honestly say that I'm no longer afraid of going to Hell, because I've already been there and still reside there. Now all I can look forward to if Heaven--nothing more. That is, if Heaven exists at all.