Amer Aziz, Pakistan’s foremost orthopedic surgeon, works alongside one of Pakistan’s most prominent extremist groups to assist survivors of the October 8 earthquake that killed 86,000 people in the nation. For Aziz, known for his free treatment of the poor, it’s the most expedient way to reach the sick and wounded in this isolated mountain region. But there’s a rub.
Many of these organisations, which have been deemed terrorist groups by both the US and Pakistan, have fashioned an uneasy truce with American soldiers ferrying relief supplies to the 3.2 million people left homeless by the quake. And Aziz has had some unpleasant experiences with US authorities: CIA and FBI operatives in 2002 detained the Pakistani surgeon for a month to interrogate him about his al-Qaida connections.
At a relief camp packed with tents stamped with Jamaat-ud-Dawa’s name, Aziz and his staff try to ignore the aid-ferrying US helicopters flying overhead. ‘‘I don’t trust Americans—not after what I went through,’’ Aziz said. ‘‘But I am not doing anything wrong, so I don’t care if their Army is here. They do their bit, I do mine.’’
As for Americans working alongside suspected terrorist groups, Nida Emmons, a spokeswoman for the US Embassy in Islamabad, said, ‘‘As always, we take every precaution to ensure the safety and security of our humanitarian assistance workers and military personnel.’’
Aziz established a rotating team of surgeons at this Dawa camp shortly after the quake. He has also treated for free 80 victims of spinal cord injuries at his Lahore hospital and provided shelter for their families. ‘‘The world has seen that these bearded people have done good work, that we are not such monsters after all,’’ said Aziz, scoffing at the notion that such groups are banned in Pakistan. Aziz, who says he is not a member of any political party, has been rendering aid to the region’s militant groups since 1989. ‘‘I believe in Islam. I am proud of it, and I am not apologizing for it,’’ he said.
On a visit to an Afghan hospital in 1999, Aziz stayed at a Taliban guesthouse where bin Laden was brought to see him. ‘‘They just told me they wanted to bring me a patient. It was nothing serious. He had fallen off a horse,’’ Aziz said. ‘‘I was assisting the Taliban government at the time. It was nothing secret.’’ He said he examined bin Laden for 10 minutes, treating him only for back pain. ‘‘He was very humble, very soft-spoken,’’ Aziz said. He met bin Laden for the second time in November 2001, two months after the terrorist attacks on the US. Aziz said, ‘‘I can’t speak Arabic, and he can’t speak English. But there were interpreters so we had a few minutes of small talk.’’
He saw no evidence that the al-Qaida mastermind suffered from kidney disease, as has been claimed by several intelligence experts. ‘‘He looked healthy,’’ Aziz said.
Nearly a year later, in October 2002, Pakistani agents arrested Aziz at his Lahore hospital . ‘‘They accused me of providing al-Qaida with chemical, biological and nuclear weapons, with an emphasis on anthrax,’’ he said. Aziz remains bitter over his captivity, which he says proved fatal to his 89-year-old father, who died shortly after Aziz’s release. ‘‘When I came back from US custody, he didn’t recognise me,’’ he said.
Aziz bristled when asked whether he knew the al-Qaida leader’s whereabouts. ‘‘I have no idea, and I couldn’t care less,’’ he said.
Los Angeles Times