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The theory behind the lawsuit against the Saudis goes back to the 1991 Gulf War. The presence of American troops in Saudi Arabia was a shattering event in the country's history, calling into question the ancient bargain between the royal family and the Wahhabi clerics, whose blessing allows the Saud family to rule. In 1992, a group of the country's most prominent religious leaders issued the Memorandum of Advice, which implicitly threatened a clerical coup. The royal family, shaken by the threat to its rule, accommodated most of the clerics' demands, giving them more control over Saudi society. One of their directives called for the creation of a Ministry of Islamic Affairs, which would be given offices in Saudi embassies and consulates. As the journalist Philip Shenon writes, [1] citing John Lehman, the former Secretary of the Navy and a 9/11 commissioner, "it was well-known in intelligence circles that the Islamic affairs office functioned as the Saudis' 'fifth column' in support of Muslim extremists." The story told in those twenty-eight pages picks up with the arrival of two young Saudis, Nawaf al-Hazmi and Khalid al-Mihdhar, in Los Angeles in January, 2000. They were the first wave of the 9/11 hijackers. Neither spoke English well, so their mission--to learn how to pilot a Boeing jetliner--seemed crazily improbable, especially if they had no assistance. Two weeks after Hazmi and Mihdhar got to L.A., a benefactor suddenly appeared. Omar al-Bayoumi, a forty-two-year-old Saudi national, was an employee of the Saudi aviation-services company Dallah Avco. Although he drew a salary, he apparently never did any actual work for the company during the seven years he spent in America. Bayoumi was in frequent contact with the Saudi Embassy in Washington, D.C., and with the consulate in Los Angeles; he was widely considered in the Arab expat community to be a Saudi spy, though the Saudi government has denied that he was. Bayoumi and a friend drove from San Diego, where they lived, to L.A. Bayoumi then went to the Saudi consulate, where he spent about an hour meeting with an official in the Ministry of Islamic Affairs named Fahad al-Thumairy, whom he considered to be his spiritual adviser. (In 2002, Thumairy was stripped of his diplomatic visa and deported, because of suspected ties to terrorists.) Afterward, Bayoumi and his friend drove to a halal restaurant in Culver City. Bayoumi later told investigators that, while eating there, he happened to overhear two men--Hazmi and Mihdhar--speaking Arabic with Gulf accents. He struck up a conversation with them and soon invited them to move to San Diego. He set them up in the same apartment complex where he lived. Because the hijackers-in-training did not have a checking account, Bayoumi paid their security deposit and first month's rent (for which they immediately reimbursed him). He also introduced them to members of the Arab community, possibly including the imam of a local mosque, Anwar al-Awlaki--later to become the most prominent spokesperson for Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula. Another Saudi who was in San Diego at the time, Osama Basnan, also befriended Hazmi and Mihdhar. As it happened, Basnan's wife was receiving charitable gifts from Prince Bandar's wife, Princess Haifa. The payments--as much as seventy-three thousand dollars over a period of three years--were supposed to fund the treatment of a medical condition that Basnan's wife suffered from. According to pleadings in the lawsuit against the Saudis, some of that money went to support the hijackers in San Diego. The F.B.I. has not found any evidence that the money got into the hands of the hijackers, however, and the 9/11 Commission found no links to the royal family. "We assert that purported 'charities,' established by the government of the Kingdom to propagate radical Wahhabi ideology throughout the world, served as the primary sources of funding and logistical support for Al Qaeda for more than a decade leading up to the 9/11 attacks," Sean Carter, one of the lead attorneys in the lawsuit, told me. "Not coincidentally, these so-called charities were themselves regulated by the Ministry of Islamic Affairs, which from its formation, in 1993, assumed primary responsibility for the Kingdom's efforts to spread Wahhabi Islam." Thomas Kean remembers finally having the opportunity to read those twenty-eight pages after he became chairman of the 9/11 Commission--"so secret that I had to get all of my security clearances and go into the bowels of Congress with someone looking over my shoulder." He also remembers thinking at the time that most of what he was reading should never have been kept secret. But the focus on the twenty-eight pages obscures the fact that many important documents are still classified--"a ton of stuff," Kean told me, including, for instance, the 9/11 Commission's interviews with George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and Bill Clinton. "I don't know of a single thing in our report that should not be public after ten years," Kean said. September 11th may be a part of history now, but some of the events that led to that horrible day remain veiled by the political considerations of the present. The intelligence community doesn't want to light up its failures once again, and no doubt the Obama Administration doesn't want to introduce additional strains on its relationship with the Saudis. In the meantime, the forces that led to catastrophe before are gathering strength once again. Thomas Massie, a Republican congressman from Kentucky and a sponsor of the House resolution to declassify the material, told me that the experience of reading those twenty-eight pages caused him to rethink how to handle the rise of ISIS. It has made him much more cautious about a military response. "We have to be careful, when we run the calculations of action, what the repercussions will be," he said. "In some ways, it's more dangerous today," Timothy Roemer, who was a member of both the Joint Inquiry and the 9/11 Commission, observed. "A more complex series of threats are coming together than even before 9/11, involving ISIS, Al Qaeda, and cyber-terrorist capabilities. The more the American people know about what happened thirteen years ago, the more we can have a credible, open debate" about our security needs. Releasing the twenty-eight pages, he said, might be a step forward. "Hopefully, after some initial shock and awe, it would make our process work better. Our government has an obligation to do this." [1] http://books.google.com/books?id=sOUFNF3tQGAC&pg=155