Ex-Marine’s 177 days in a Yemen prison--blindfolds, beatings and al-Qaeda cellmates

Haisam Farran, a former Marine and security consultant, was working in Yemen when hewas captured by rebels and held for 177 days. He is now home in Dearborn Heights, a suburb of Detroit. (Fabrizio Costantini/Fabrizio Costantini)

By Adam Goldman October 20

DEARBORN HEIGHTS, Mich. — When Haisam Farran flew into Sanaa, the capital of

Yemen, on March 19, he quickly spotted the discreet surveillance. The city was in the

hands of Houthi rebels, but the National Security Bureau was little changed, and

Farran, a retired Marine and former assistant defense attache at the U.S. embassy, was

well known to local security officials. He said he regarded the watching eyes as routine,

not threatening.

Farran’s company provided security services, including guards, to Western companies

in Yemen. And he was one of very few Americans willing to still travel to the country

after the Houthis toppled a U.S.-backed government.

Six days after Farran arrived, Saudi Arabia launched an air campaign in an effort to

dislodge the rebels. Farran, 54, was in a house owned by the British American Tobacco

company, one of his clients, when the bombs began to fall. He was joined there by

another American, Scott Darden, who worked for the New Orleans-based Transoceanic

Development, overseeing the transport of humanitarian supplies in Yemen.

The Saudi campaign, which was backed by the U.S. with intelligence and other assets,

suddenly made any Americans in Sanaa deeply suspect. And Farran was about to begin

a 177 day ordeal of sometimes savage beatings in a prison where his cellmates were al-

Qaeda operatives.

“We used to call it one death for each day. You know how you get up and start a new

day? Over there you wake up and wish you were dead again,” said Farran, a dual

Lebanese-American national, in his first extensive interview since his release.

Farran in front of his home in Dearborn

Heights, Michigan. (Fabrizio Costantini/Fabrizio Costantini)

Speaking at a Middle Eastern restaurant and hookah lounge in Dearborn Heights,

just outside of Detroit, where Farran lives, he provided a rare glimpse into the rule

of the Houthis — the rebels that continues to control the levers of power in Yemen

and have withstood six months of Saudi bombing.

[Houthi rebels in Yemen take multiple Americans prisoner]

On the night of March 27, nearly a dozen men — armed with American-made M-4

assault rifles and wearing crisp camouflage uniforms — stormed the villa. Farran

recognized them as from the U.S-funded and equipped counterterrorism unit that

was built to fight al-Qaeda.

Now they were commanded by three Houthis who wore Keffiyehs scarves, Farran

said.

The men confiscated the Americans’ cell phones and computers and tossed the villa

as Farran and Darden sat at a table. They took more than $5,000 in cash that

Farran had in his wallet. When the search was complete, the Americans were

stripped to their underwear and t-shirts, blindfolded, and shoved into separate,

armored Toyota Land Rovers.

Darden declined to discuss his detention. Through a spokesman, he said, “I want to

thank everyone who has supported me and my family the last six plus months.”

As he was being driven away, Farran wanted know where he was being taken.

“Don’t ask,” one of the Houthis said.

An image from Omani state television

shows Scott Darden (L) and Sam Farran (C) welcomed by U.S. consular staff upon their

arrival in Muscat, Oman, on Sept. 20. (-/AFP/Getty Images)

Farran began to worry he would be summarily executed. “The thought did cross my

mind,” he recalled.

About 30 minutes later, Farran, still blindfolded, was hustled into an interrogation

room. His computer was on the table. The interrogator wanted to know the password

to his e-mail account, and his presence on social media, including Facebook.

“Why are you in Yemen,” the interrogator asked.

Farran explained his business in the country.

“You are a spy,” the interrogator said.

Why had he arrived just before the bombing? Was he providing targeting information

to the Americans, the interrogator asked, so the Saudis would know what to hit?

Farran denied it.

“Liar,” the interrogator said. And then someone started to slap him repeatedly and box

his ears. Farran, still blindfolded, thought his head was going to explode. Eventually,

he lost consciousness.

Faking a heart attack

Farran was dragged to a cell where he was given sweat pants and a shirt but no shoes.

There was a faucet and a bucket to wash, a commode and a thin mattress. There were

three meals a day, mostly stews and chillies, but Farran would lose more than 30

pounds while incarcerated. He had three cellmates, two of them medics in al-Qaeda’s

local affiliate, who told him he was in a prison on a military base they called

“Guantanamo Yemen.”

Three days later, Farran was blindfolded and taken back to the interrogation room

where he was told to sit on the floor. The same cycle of accusation and denial

continued until Farran said he was told to stand. He was struck repeatedly with a

heavy stick on the arms and legs. He was black and blue when he was returned to his

cell.

[CIA scales back presence and operations in Yemen]

Another beating followed a few weeks later before Farran’s cellmates told him to feign

heart trouble. It wasn’t difficult. Farran, who had had triple bypass surgery, had been

taking heart medication when he was detained.

Days later, Farran faked a heart attack. He lay down on the floor and started breathing

heavily and his cellmates banged on the door. The Yemenis took the “old man,” as they

called him, to the hospital.

Farran said he was taken in a van with Casey Coombs, an American journalist who was

detained in May and was injured. “He was in bad shape,” Farran said.

Coombs, who declined to be interviewed, was freed in June and flown to Oman.

At the hospital Farran was given an electrocardiogram and prescribed his previous

heart medication before he was returned to the prison.

On the runway

Farran was moved to a different cell with a new group al-Qaeda prisoners. He

described them as hardcore and worried they might harm him. Farran, who speaks

fluent Arabic, emphasized his Lebanese heritage, but that wasn’t much better than

saying he was American, because he is a Shiite; al-Qaeda is a Sunni terrorist group and

hostilities between the two branches of Islam run deep.

But they were also curious about Farran. He told them about the Yemeni community

in Dearborn. His cellmates thought all Muslims were mistreated in United States, and

couldn’t pray freely there. Farran gently correctly them.

His cellmates never threatened him. In fact, at one point they said there was a rumor

al-Qaeda was planning to break them out and asked if he would come. Farran seriously

considered it as his interrogators had threatened to “disappear” him.

“What choice did I have?” he said. “I would take my chances with them.”

When not chatting with members of al-Qaeda, Farran would pace in his cell for hours

until his knees and back hurt. He was finally allowed to go outside 130 days after his

detention for one hour.

The guards took him a small prison yard, where he saw sunlight and Darden for the

first time since they were brought to the military base. They hugged and cried. Darden

confided that he, too, had been beaten. Before going back to their cells, Darden, a

Muslim convert, kissed Farran on his forehead as a sign of respect and devotion.

Although the physical abuse ended, the interrogations continued and the Houthis

wanted Farran to sign a confession that he was spy.

“Nobody is asking about you,” one interrogator said. “You’re on your own. You can

make this easy or hard. Sign the confession and you can walk out of here.”

In fact, a new Hostage Recovery Fusion Cell led by the FBI had been trying to secure

his freedom, as had Ali Soufan, a former FBI agent with deep ties in Yemen, who had

previously employed Farran in his international security firm, the Soufan Group.

There were about dozen interrogation sessions in all, Farran said, but by the end the

Houthis had stopped accusing him of being a spy.

“Finally they gave up,” he said. The last two times the Houthis questioned him, he said,

they chewed khat together.

The Houthis have not said anything about the detention of the Americans but Farran

believes that diplomatic pressure, along with their conclusion that he was not a spy, led

to his release.

About a week after the final interrogation, the guards asked his shoe size, a clear sign

to Farran that he was going home.

“I fell on the ground, “ Farran said. “I was shocked. It’s hard to believe. Everyday you

pray for that moment.”

Even his al-Qaeda cell mates were happy for him. They were praising Allah, Farran

said.

Wearing new shoes and clothes, Farran and Darden were driven to the airport on Sept.

20.

Farran wondered: “Is this happening? Am I really going home?”

The two Americans boarded an Omani Air Force Boeing 737 first and were followed by

a British-Somali citizen as well as four Saudis.

Scores of wounded Houthi fighters were also brought aboard, as well as a delegation

headed to talks in Oman.

And then they waited. And waited. For hours. A third American — a Muslim convert

who had been teaching English in Sanaa — was also supposed to be on the plane.

U.S. officials implored the Omanis not to leave without the other American. But the

Omanis said it was too dangerous to remain and eventually the plane took off.

The third American is still in custody in Sanaa.

Read more:

U.S. prisoner in Yemen said to be held in area under Saudi-led bombardment

American journalist held by rebels in Yemen is freed

Hagel: U.S. hostage ‘murdered’ in Yemen

Adam Goldman reports on terrorism and national security for The Washington Post.

Posted by Thavam