Mark Bridges, Bakr’s principal attorney in London, who also served as personal solicitor to the Queen, reinforced these instincts. His advice was that there was simply no reason for the Bin Ladens to speak publicly or to make unnecessary disclosures.18
Bridges was perhaps unable to conceive, however, of the force of nature that was Barbara Walters. As she traveled in Saudi Arabia early in 2002, conducting a number of interviews with members of the royal family and with families of September 11 hijackers in Asir, she grew increasingly frustrated. She had sought an interview with Crown Prince Abdullah, the most powerful man in the kingdom; this did not materialize. Without a Bin Laden on camera, she told the Saudis assisting her, her trip would be a bust—and the implication was, of course, that she would be very angry. Sensing a public relations fiasco, Bandar and Al-Jubeir concocted a bold ploy to help Walters. As it happened, Bandar owed the Bin Ladens a large sum of money for work they had completed on his palace in Jeddah. The Bin Ladens had been agitating for payment. Bandar proposed inviting Abdullah Bin Laden, the Harvard graduate, to his home, supposedly for a meeting with accountants called to settle the final palace bill. Barbara Walters would arrive—and Abdullah would have no choice but to submit to an interview.19
The ambush came off seamlessly. Walters walked in on the business meeting and Abdullah, as Bandar hovered, reluctantly agreed to sit for a few questions. On her broadcast, Walters did not burden viewers with the story of how the interview had come about, but she did note on air, during her introduction, “As we sat down together, he was so nervous—and who could blame him?”
“How difficult has this been for your family?” Walters asked Abdullah in her signature tone of empathy.
“We went through a tough time, it was difficult. But—and we felt we are a victim as well, but no matter what happened to us, it is not—our tragedy is not as bad, or we didn’t feel as bad, as those victims, the families and victims in New York. Our tragedy compared to their tragedies—there is no comparison, and we do feel for them.”
“Do you have any idea what made Osama bin Laden the man he is?”
“I wish I can answer this question.”20
38. BRANDS
JACK KAYAJANIAN practiced family law in Costa Mesa, California, south of Los Angeles. He was a gregarious man who spent some of his spare time at the Del Mar racetrack, where he dabbled in Thoroughbreds and kept his eyes peeled for long-shot winners. He was an active member of the Armenian American community in conservative Orange County, and he regarded himself as a fiercely patriotic American. So when an Armenian friend of his telephoned in the summer of 2002 to say that his daughter, Christine, was having custody trouble with her ex-husband, who happened to be a member of the Bin Laden family, Kayajanian took up the case with some gusto.1
After their divorce in 1993, Ibrahim Bin Laden and Christine Hartunian had accommodated one another for eight years without notable difficulty. They cooperated in raising their only child, their daughter Sibba. She lived with her mother and attended school in Southern California but also spent summers and Ramadan holidays with Ibrahim in Jeddah or at his Stone Canyon estate in Bel Air. The rise of Osama Bin Laden during the late 1990s created some tension within the family because Ibrahim started to think that he might not be safe in the United States. “I began to feel uncomfortable in Los Angeles in the summer of 2001,” he said later, “as a result of remarks that were made to me even before September 11.”2
When the Bin Ladens evacuated to Jeddah, Ibrahim took Sibba with him; they had been vacationing in Geneva when the attacks took place. Sibba found the scene in Jeddah somewhat unnerving, according to Kayajanian: she told family members that some of the young people at the Bin Laden compound openly celebrated the September 11 attacks. Ibrahim enrolled his daughter in the British International School in Jeddah that autumn. Christine Hartunian, now a struggling artist who lived in a gated community in west Los Angeles, did not initially object, but she opposed the idea that Sibba would take up indefinite residence in Saudi Arabia. She was struggling financially; she had little money in her bank accounts and relied on loans from her parents. Christine flew to Jeddah to visit with Sibba at the Bin Laden compound.3
By the summer of 2002, her daughter had developed some health problems; these were not life threatening, but they required a specialist’s care. Doctors in Saudi Arabia referred her to specialists in Southern California, and Christine took Sibba back to Los Angeles. Ibrahim, however, wanted Sibba to return to live with him and his new wife in Saudi Arabia; he argued that Sibba could get the treatment she required in the kingdom, and that she would be better off attending school there and living among the Bin Ladens. Sibba’s parents could not reach an agreement about where she should live, as required by their divorce decree, and Christine believed she was about to lose custody of her only daughter to a Saudi system where she enjoyed few legal rights. She tried initially to represent herself in the court proceedings, but in about August 2002, her family called Jack Kayajanian onto the case.
Kayajanian pored through the old divorce files, rushed to Los Angeles Superior Court, where the original decree had been filed, and won an order that would at least delay Sibba’s departure for Jeddah. Ibrahim hired a Santa Monica law firm that specialized in divorce; the lead partner on the case was a woman, as were two of her associates. These lawyers buried Kayajanian with motions and papers—new filings seemed to arrive almost around the clock. Kayajanian decided to concentrate on the medical issue, arguing that Sibba could obtain the care she needed only in the United States.4
Ibrahim refused to travel to America for a hearing. Because of September 11, he feared for “my own safety” because of “the backlash against people of Arabic descent in the United States…The fear is real and justified, given the notoriety of our last name. I know that our surname triggers very strong reactions in many individuals.” Judge Roy L. Paul agreed to permit Ibrahim to testify by live video transmission from a studio in Dubai, in the United Arab Emirates, so that he would not have to travel to Los Angeles.5
On October 4, 2002, Kayajanian and Ibrahim’s lawyers arrived at a special secure courtroom in Los Angeles known as “the bank,” where high-profile cases involving Hollywood celebrities were sometimes convened. Ibrahim appeared on a video monitor.6
Judge Paul ordered Ibrahim’s testimony to be sealed, ostensibly to protect Sibba from possible vigilante violence. Open court records nonetheless make clear what happened at the hearing: By day’s end, Kayajanian had won on the crucial custody question. Judge Paul ruled that Sibba should attend school in Southern California and receive medical treatment in the U.S. The judge ordered Ibrahim Bin Laden to put up a $4 million bond to ensure that he would return his daughter to her mother after summer vacations and religious holidays. For almost a decade, Sibba’s custody arrangements with the Bin Laden family in Saudi Arabia had been based on mutual trust. On both sides, that era was gone.7