A Pakistani newspaper editor who has twice interviewed Osama bin Laden tells Julie Middleton why he believes the world's most wanted man is still alive
Veteran Pakistani journalist Rahimullah Yusufzai talks about Osama bin Laden in the present tense.
Yusufzai, who has interviewed him twice, says that the "shy, polite" 9/11 mastermind is still alive, despite claims he died in an American bombing raid, was murdered by rivals, or succumbed to illnesses ranging from typhoid to kidney disease.
There has never been proof that "OBL" has died, says Yusufzai, a tall, dignified 56-year-old; there has been no body and no DNA evidence.
Most importantly, the terrorist group al Qaeda, which bin Laden founded in the 1980s, has not commented.
"I have seen through experience that al Qaeda always admits the death of its members, always," says Yusufzai, an authority on Pakistan and neighbouring Afghanistan.
"It's their policy that whenever somebody important dies, they always concede it. They don't concede cause, but they want to celebrate martyrdom, and they want to properly recognise and accept the person's sacrifice and tell the family that this person has become a shahid [martyr or witness].
"If OBL dies, they will concede it. Such news couldn't be kept hidden - they will chatter, they will talk, or post on a website somewhere."
Bin Laden, he says, is most likely to be along Afghanistan's lawless, 2500km-long border with northwest Pakistan.
The Saudi financier-turned-terrorist and his accomplices have long been harboured by Afghanistan's militant Taleban.
The Americans "have no clue" to bin Laden's whereabouts, says Yusufzai.
Yusufzai also has doubts about the latest US plan to grab him and destroy a resurgent, nimble Taleban by boosting troop numbers to more than 100,000.
"The Taleban may suffer setbacks in certain places and become weak in places where big US-led offensives are being launched," Yusufzai says, "but I think the Taleban would survive and bounce back in due course."
Peshawar-based Yusufzai, a Muslim and married father of six - his 20-year-old daughter Azra, a masters graduate, lives here with her husband Murad Ali, a Massey doctoral student - has been reporting on the region since the 1980s, when Afghanistan was embroiled in post-Soviet civil war.
He edits the Peshawar edition of English-language paper The News International and broadcasts for the BBC in Pashto, his first language (and the national language of Afghanistan) and Urdu, Pakistan's official language alongside English.
Yusufzai also contributes to television stations in Pakistan and the United States and several heavyweight news magazines.
His hyperbole-free, incisive reporting has had a major impact on Western understanding of the "war on terror" since the US invaded Afghanistan in 2001.
As well as interviewing bin Laden twice in 1998, Yusufzai interviewed Taleban leader Mullah Mohammed Omar 13 times between 1995 and 2001 ("he is a very shy man; he is a man of few words and he has no charisma") and has met a range of others on America's most-wanted list.
"Maybe my strength is that I have been around for so long," muses Yusufzai, who fell into journalism through a newspaper proof-reading job while studying international relations at Karachi University.
"The people have come to know me and trust that I will be fair and objective and that I won't take sides. The Taleban, they trust me. But I am also critical of them."
Yusufzai first met bin Laden in May 1998. He and 10 other Pakistan-based journalists were taken to bin Laden's south Afghanistan training camp, where they waited for three days.
"The moment bin Laden arrived at this camp, with his bodyguards and his convoy of vehicles, everyone started firing in the air with their rocket launchers and machine guns," recalls Yusufzai.
"We were taken by surprise, and were told that this was all to recognise that Obama the hero had come.
"I was intrigued and went around asking the people who were firing, mostly Afghanis and some Pakistanis, why they were doing it.
"They said they had been invited to come and arrange this show. I asked if they were members of al Qaeda, and some said 'what is al Qaeda'?"
Also present were al Qaeda military commander Muhammed Atef, who was killed in a post-9/11 US air strike, and bin Laden's second-in-command, Ayman al-Zawahiri.
Yusufzai describes bin Laden as slender and 1.8m tall, but very shy. "He is very polite and gives you respect, and is willing to embrace you, and shake hands."
Those hands are soft, reflecting his wealthy background.
Bin Laden understands English, "but answers in Arabic because he wants to be understood; he is very careful with his words."
Al-Zawahiri, who speaks good English, translated bin Laden's declaration of war on the US and Israel.
Bin Laden is, says Yusufzai, clever, complex and intelligent - he had a university education - and couples a sense of history with strong beliefs: "He was so particular about reciting the name of Allah and the Holy Prophet after the start of every sentence."
He also had a sense of humour. "I said, 'I know you have three or four wives but I don't know about the number of children you have.' He looked at me and said, 'I have lost count!' and laughed."
The pair met again that year, one December night. It was during Ramadan, when observant Muslims eat and drink only after dark. Atef and al-Zawahiri drove Yusufzai from Kandahar to a desert camp to wait for bin Laden.
Yusufzai videotaped bin Laden entering, leaning on a stick and looking unwell.
"Al-Zawahiri said that he had back pain, an injury or something to the spinal cord, and said that although he loved horse riding and soccer, he could no longer do either." But the world never saw the footage; bin Laden's minders erased it.
During the four-hour meeting, bin Laden drank large amounts of water and green tea, suggesting some sort of kidney ailment. Yusufzai pressed al-Zawahiri on bin Laden's health, but felt the answer - that he needed to keep his strength up during an all-night interview during Ramadan - wasn't the full story.
And that was the last time Yusufzai and bin Laden sat face-to-face. It was the last meeting bin Laden would have with any journalist.
Yusufzai's recent requests to see bin Laden or Taleban leaders have been unsuccessful, and he doesn't want to push too hard.
"If you try aggressively, you become a suspect also," he says. "I am often followed by secret service agents; they listen to my telephone and I know wherever I go, they know where I am."
But Yusufzai refuses to dwell on the risks to his life from militants or military.
"Everything is in God's hands," he says. "I believe in God and I think my time will come, but it has not yet come. Maybe I will die at home, or maybe I'll die reporting. I'm not afraid."
He had a narrow escape in 2005, when he and a driver were ambushed by three armed men.
The driver put his foot down, scattering the trio, but they regrouped and riddled the car with more than 50 bullets. Yusufzai suspects the would-be killers were opportunistic "carlifters and kidnappers" after a ransom.
Yusufzai's family worries one day he won't come home; to spare them, he no longer says where he's going.
"This job is dangerous," he says, "but you don't take unmanageable risks. You do your job, you leave it to fate."
