Monday, May 23, 2011

Lust and Anger in the Seraglio

Not quite the ascetic he enjoyed portraying himself as, after all. Abstemious, perhaps, preferring to live modestly as befits a man of god, who has committed himself to a holy jihad and prefers to live sparingly, as would a mujaheddin. But forswear from the comfort of sex on demand? Well, that's another thing altogether. Warriors of god require the comfort of feminine presence, available and biddable.

Is that not, after all, the reward for stalwart shaheeds, those who surrender their lives as martyrs for the love and honour of Islam? One may live in isolation and with anger and frustration, but it must be well directed, toward one's enemies. One may not with entirely good will live without the comfort of multiple wives, for the lack of their presence becomes an unnecessary distraction.

So for six or so years the most sought-after man in the world lived comfortably enough, hidden in plain sight from those who sought him. Exceedingly careful not to draw attention to his presence; which is to say the attention of those he sought to evade, and successfully did for many years, thanks to the kindly connivance of well-wishers in a location that had an unofficial plenitude of such.

But eschewing an Internet connection and ensuring that all such communications take place at a distance is not the only - although it is the most technologically modern - method of detection. An older one yet - that of a male-female relationship, and tracking one to the other - proved just as useful in the final analysis.

Who might have imagined that the man worshipped by jihadis the world over, and dreaded by intended victims the world over, lived in a buzzing beehive of female bitterness? Women, like his wives, well versed in Islamic heritage and the achievement of scholarship are just as susceptible as any others to issues of jealousy and unfair disentitlements.

To have invoked as his right the need and utility of assembling all his current wives within a close communion rather than disperse them, giving them separate dwellings in the commodious compound that was his in Abbottabad, was not a brilliant move. But it did expedite his convenience in deliberating where he would spend the night; on the second floor with his two older wives, or the third floor with his young and nubile wife.

Surely the vicious back-biting and spitting contests will soon come to an end, with the wives no longer seeing any need to blame one another and claim first place in the heart of their husband? Even if, because of his own lust for younger female flesh he called upon his youngest wife to join him in the compound, giving the CIA the tracking opportunity they required.

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