A Look Back at the Events Leading to 9/11

On a hot day in January 1995, thick smoke covered Manila. Inside Room 604 of the Doña Josefa Apartments, something strange was happening. Firefighters and Philippine intelligence officers rushed in to find a strange setup. They discovered hot plates, wires, timers, fake passports, Bibles, and clerical clothes. It looked more like a lab for bad activities than an apartment. The people who lived there had already run away, but they left behind important papers and a computer. This pointed to a scary plan called Bojinka.

The plan was to plant bombs on twelve U.S.-bound planes and blow them up over the Pacific or South China Sea after escaping. They also talked about killing Pope John Paul II and attacking President Bill Clinton when he visited Manila in 1994. The event that revealed this plot was almost silly. Ramzi Yousef and Abdul Hakim Murad were trying to make bombs when an accident caused thick, bad smoke. They ran away, and firefighters came. Yousef later got away to Pakistan, while Murad was caught. But there was another person involved: a man called Mukhtar, who was Ramzi Yousef's uncle. For years, American intelligence knew the name but could not find out who he really was.

In March 2002, another important al-Qaeda member, Abu Zubaydah, was caught in Faisalabad, Pakistan. During questioning, FBI agent Ali Soufan asked about Mukhtar. Soufan said Abu Zubaydah laughed and asked how Americans did not realize Mukhtar was one of many names used by Khalid Sheikh Mohammed (KSM). KSM was later identified as the main person behind the September 11 attacks. This information was a big step forward for intelligence.

A year later, on March 1, 2003, Pakistani intelligence and U.S. officials caught KSM in Rawalpindi. He was taken to a secret CIA detention center and faced harsh interrogation methods. KSM’s capture provided valuable information about al-Qaeda and its operations worldwide. The Bojinka plot aimed to blow up planes. KSM and his group took this idea further for the September 11 plan: instead of using bombs, they decided to turn the planes into weapons. This connection ties Manila in 1995 to New York and Washington in 2001.

KSM was not always a terrorist. He became involved with extremist ideas early in life. He was born to Pakistani parents who moved to Kuwait. He grew up there and joined the Muslim Brotherhood as a teenager. In 1983, he went to the United States to study at Chowan College in North Carolina. He later moved to North Carolina A&T State University, where he got a mechanical engineering degree in 1986. After that, he left the U.S. and went to Afghanistan for military training against the Soviet occupation.

By the early 1990s, KSM and Ramzi Yousef were part of a larger network of Islamist militants from the Afghan jihad. Today, KSM is still in U.S. custody at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, while Ramzi Yousef, the mastermind of the 1993 World Trade Center bombing and a key figure in the Bojinka plot, is serving a life sentence at ADX Florence in Colorado.

It has now been 25 years since the September 11 attacks, when nineteen hijackers killed 2,977 people. But the wars that followed caused even more deaths. Brown University’s Costs of War Project estimates that over 940,000 people died due to violence in the major war zones after 9/11. Terrorism did not go away. It changed, and now we face a broader threat than we did twenty-five years ago. Different groups split, changed names, and spread across borders. Parts of Africa, especially the Sahel and Lake Chad Basin, now face jihadist attacks, kidnappings, and criminal violence.

If we want to end terrorism, we must accept a hard truth: terrorists are people. They do not appear out of nowhere. They are shaped by beliefs, anger, money, chances, political manipulation, and social connections. Understanding these reasons helps us see how terrorism grows and how its ideas spread. History teaches us that governments sometimes think they can control violent groups for their short-term benefits.

In 1994, Mullah Mohammed Omar, a one-eyed veteran of the anti-Soviet fight, gathered students in Kandahar who wanted to stop Afghanistan's civil war. They became known as the Taliban, meaning "students" in Pashto. Pakistan's security leaders saw the Taliban as a useful ally, thinking a friendly government in Kabul could help them against India. But governments often realize too late that violent groups have their own goals.

Under Taliban rule, Afghanistan became a hideout for Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda. Pakistan ended up fighting groups linked to those it once thought were helpful. The irony was strong when bin Laden was found living near the Pakistan Military Academy. But Pakistan is not the only country to make such mistakes. The U.S. armed and supported the Afghan mujahideen during the Cold War against the Soviets, which contributed to the rise of the Taliban and al-Qaeda. In Iraq, the U.S. supported Saddam Hussein during parts of the Iran-Iraq War, only to confront him later after he invaded Kuwait. This pattern leads to short-term gains and long-term problems. This is the flaw of political deals that sacrifice the future for control now.

Leaders often think they can use extremists like pieces in a game. But these pieces can act on their own. Ideologies cannot easily be contained once released. General Hamid Gul, who led Pakistan's ISI, thought the Taliban could be Pakistan’s tool, while American leaders saw Saddam Hussein as a balance against Iran. Both ideas turned out to be wrong. The cost of these mistakes always falls on the weak. The families in Bajaur walking through mountains, children killed in Peshawar, millions of out-of-school kids in Borno’s IDP camps, and passengers running from falling towers in New York: these are the real victims of secret deals made by powerful men. The planners of these strategies rarely suffer; ordinary people do.

Then there’s Saudi Arabia, where Salafi extremism has had a strong influence. Saudi clerics and rich backers have been accused of spreading extremist ideas and funding religious schools abroad, including some linked to militant groups. For years, the U.S. has kept a close relationship with the Saudi monarchy, even when fifteen of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers were from Saudi Arabia. Yet, Saudi Arabia's connection to jihadist extremism is more complex than just the hijackers' nationality. Nigeria also shows a similar story.

Boko Haram was once supported by politicians in Borno for votes. But it grew strong, splitting into groups, with some joining the Islamic State. Similarly, fighters from the Sahel have been brought into Nigeria to affect elections. Some armed groups stayed behind, turning to kidnapping, banditry, and trafficking, which now threaten the same elites who once saw them as allies.

For years, Nigerian leaders have treated the funding of terror with casual indifference. While the U.S. State Department has punished people linked to Boko Haram financing, questions remain about networks in Nigeria. More troubling is how some accused individuals still hold political power while the country suffers from their actions. The lesson is clear: the monsters created for quick gains do not stay loyal.

They change, grow stronger, and eventually turn on their creators. Mullah Omar’s students changed global politics. Boko Haram’s journey from a local group to an international jihadist force is another warning. The quick deals that empowered these movements are now marked by blood.

If the U.S., Pakistan, Nigeria, or any nation wants to break this cycle, leaders must stop thinking they can make clever deals with extremists. Real safety comes not from proxy wars or militant allies but from creating fair societies, strong institutions, and inclusive political systems that deny extremists the reasons they exploit. Anything less plants the seeds for future disasters.

Twenty-five years after September 11, the smoke has cleared from lower Manhattan, but its effects are still felt around the world. The story of Bojinka, 9/11, al-Qaeda, the Taliban, and the rise of terrorism in Africa serves as a warning that governments often forget: Violence may be borrowed for a time, but it is hard to control the cost. When the bill comes due, it is usually ordinary people who pay.