‘Until the lion has learned to write, the story will glorify the hunter’

Mauretan Mohamedou Ould Slahi was imprisoned in Guantanamo Bay for 14 years on suspicion of involvement in the 9/11 attacks, without charge or trial. Today, he lives in Groningen and is writer-in-residence at the Noord Nederlands Toneel and De Balie.

Ould Slahi was born in 1970 in the Mauritanian city of Rosso and studied electrical engineering in Germany. In the early 1990s, he travelled twice for short periods to Afghanistan, where he joined a group of fighters fighting against the then Russian-backed government. This is also how he came into contact with al-Qaeda. At the time of 9/11, he was again living in Mauritania. Shortly after the attacks, he was arrested and, after brief detentions in Afghanistan and Jordan, handed over to the CIA. What followed were years of detention in Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. There, Ould Slahi was subjected to physical and psychological torture by his US interrogators. Yet that was not even the worst part, he says. ‘That was that they threatened to arrest my mother in Mauritania as well.’

It was only in 2016 that Ould Slahi was released. Evidence of his involvement in 9/11 was never produced in all these years. His diary, Guantanámo Diary, was filmed in 2021 as The Mauritanian, starring Jodi Foster and Benedict Cumberbatch. Also released was a documentary, Slahi and His Torturers - Life after Guantanamo, in which Ould Slahi, with the help of journalist John Goetz and his assistant Ben Hopkins, tracks down some of his former interrogators to talk to them.

There has been a lot of coverage of your case in the international media. Are you satisfied with the way you have been reported?

‘Some media have portrayed me as a terrorist. I don't care, because I have chosen to tell my own story. To people who complain about the media, I say, “Don't curse the darkness, but light a candle.”’'

How important is it for you to be able to tell your own story?

‘There is a saying, “Until the lion has learned to write, the story will always glorify the hunter.” I tell my story first and foremost for myself, only then for other people. I tell it because I was injured. I was kidnapped in front of my mother. They had no arrest warrant, not even a uniform. I saw the fear in my mother's eyes, but I didn't understand, because if you don't have children yourself, you can't really understand the fear and grief of parents when their child is taken away. When they abducted me, I saw my mother in the car mirror. After 200 metres, she disappeared from sight, forever. I will never forget that image. America accused me of being a murderer. I will continue to explain to the world that this is not true.’

What is the most valuable thing that has been taken away from you by your captivity?

‘My mother. I couldn't communicate with the outside world for seven years. I remember the first time I called my mother, I cried and apologised to her. I felt guilty for causing her fears and problems, although it wasn't my fault, but that's how I felt at the time. I talked to her every three months, until one day they came and told me she had died. I can't describe how I felt then. My heart was burning, I felt physical fire in my body.’

At no point did you lose hope for a good outcome during your captivity?

‘I wouldn't say I lost hope, I would say I put my fate in the hands of God. I remember when someone from military intelligence came to me and told me I was sentenced to death. I was not afraid or sad at that moment. I felt nothing at all.’

You have forgiven your interrogators, you said in previous interviews. How did you do that?

‘Five minutes changed my life. After I was arrested, I was taken straight to Jordan, where I spent about eight months. One day they took me from prison in Jordan in a car. I was blindfolded; I couldn't see where we were or where we were going. Loud music was put on in the car because they didn't want me to be able to hear what was being said. The radio played music by Abdel Halim Hafez. I love his songs.
On the way, we were met by another intelligence team. Someone cut my clothes off my body. When he pushed aside my blindfold a little to examine my face, I saw that he was blond. At that moment, I knew I was being handed over to the Americans.
I realised this was the end of my life. I felt weak. I wasn't thinking about money, my dreams or the women I loved who didn't love me. I only thought about the times I upset my mother, my family and the people I love.
I made a promise: if this is not the end and God grants me a second chance at life, then I will be a better person. So I made the decision to forgive my persecutors even before I entered Guantanamo.’

Have you recovered from what you experienced?

‘An American psychologist friend told me that the time you need to recover is the same as the time spent with suffering. That means I need another 13 years to fully recover. I still have nightmares almost every night. Fortunately I am surrounded by positive-minded people who are trying to deliver me from all this.’

Worldwide, many people are still innocently imprisoned. Do you have a message for them and for their jailers?

‘First, I bow to the prisoners and tell them that I know from my years of experience in prison that there are things that a jailer cannot take away from you, such as kindness, good deeds and the knowledge you have gained inside or outside prison. All these belong to you. What remains for the jailer is only your body. As for the jailers, I tell them that I will not stop fighting for oppressed prisoners, not only those still detained in Guantanamo, but also the innocent prisoners in Arab countries.’