My Dinner with ISIL
My Dinner with ISIL Naser Shadid | Al Jazeera Correspondent
“It is Abul Hassan, ISIL’s Emir of Hawija,” said the voice on the other side of the phone. He called at 07:30am inviting me to go and film a military parade in their stronghold, as a new combat faction had joined their organisation. I hurriedly woke our cameraman, Abdul Wahid Khan, and we headed straight to Hawija, about 10km from where we were. We were received by ISIL’s Hawija Emir himself. He escorted us to his vehicle and along the way we talked about many things, including the parade. A spot located 15km away from Hawija, called Al Riyadh, was chosen for the event. More than 700 militants; 150 armoured vehicles, mostly spoils of war seized from the Iraqi army; and pick-up- mounted anti-aircraft machine guns would, we were told, take part in the show. Upon disembarking, we were met by a short man in a balaclava. He was promptly introduced by the Emir, who stepped back in a move that suggested the man outranked him. It was Abdul Nasser, the highest-ranking ISIL military commander in Iraq. “Who are you? What are you here for?” asked Abdul Nasser harshly.
“I am an Al Jazeera correspondent and we are here to film the parade and have some interviews, if possible,” I replied. He nodded in agreement. I then asked for his personal phone number, just in case we are stopped on the way back. He jotted it down on a piece of paper, but then suddenly ripped it up. He ordered his guards: “Take them away.” I did not speak a word, but I heard someone whisper, “He felt suspicious!” I did not turn back; I just kept staring at the Emir, hoping he would say something, but he did not move a finger. We were taken in a vehicle with two armed men. The destination was the central security station. I then called the then Director of News, Ibrahim Hilal, who advised me to remain calm. “Just keep in touch with us through messaging, if you could. Your safety is our priority; just keep us posted,” said Hilal. A large number of, mostly young, ISIL operatives were at the station. The entire crew was detained. We were held there for hours.
We were not badly treated; quite the opposite, we were brought a substantial meal and drinks. But, contrary to the instructions we received in war-zone training courses, I refused to eat. It was now a personal issue: How could they grant us safe passage in, then detain us? Was this our reward after producing three reports from the ISIL strongholds of Hawija and Baija? Hours later, a well-built man in a balaclava came rushing out of nowhere. “Are you Naser Shadid,” he asked. He shook my hand and shouted: “Clear the
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