OSLO // One is a devout and cheerful Saudi, the other a British convert overcome by doubt, the third a Syrian fascinated by the promise of 72 virgins: a new documentary unveils the shadowy world of Syria’s would-be suicide bombers.
In a rare, in-depth look at Jabhat Al Nusra, Al Qaeda's affiliate in Syria, Dugma, the Button reveals the convictions and doubts of those ready to become martyrs – "the precision weaponry of the poor" in the words of the filmmaker, Norwegian journalist Pal Refsdal.
The film follows the three future suicide bombers as they wait for their missions, without any commentary.
"When I get close to the target, I'll pull the safety switch, the first one ... and I'll keep driving until I'm a few metres away from the target, and then I'll pull the other safety switch," says Saudi national Abu Qaswara, sitting at the wheel of a lorry loaded with explosives, covered in makeshift armour so it looks like something out of the film, Mad Max.
“This is the button. This is Dugma. I’ll press it ... and with Allah’s permission I’ll send them all to hell,” he says with a disconcerting smile.
Aged 32 when the documentary was shot and the father of a little girl he’s never seen, Abu Qaswara arrived in Syria two years earlier. He’s on “the list” of volunteers ready to blow themselves up to take out a Syrian army position.
The wait is usually a long one, between one and two years, according to Refsdal who spent more than six weeks with the men at the end of 2014 and in mid-2015 in northwestern Syria.
Al Nusra is sparing with its use of suicide bombers, Refsdal says. “Several weeks can go by in between two operations.”
“They’re not like IS which sends car bombs one after the other with very young drivers dying en masse,” he adds.
While waiting for a target to be selected – always strictly military, according to Refsdal – the candidates for martyrdom go about the daily routines that are part of a messy and never-ending war. At the risk of being overcome by doubt.
Born Catholic to a British mother and an American father who worked in Hollywood – Patrick Kinney worked on Braveheart, Indiana Jones and Rambo II – Lucas Kinney, who goes by the name Abu Basir Al Britani, sees his convictions falter after his young wife gets pregnant.
“Now I can’t do that to my family,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion.
There are also moments of levity and humour, such as when the Syrian, who goes by the pseudonym Abu Ljaman, asks where the speedometer is on the armoured vehicle that Abu Qaswara is teaching him to drive.
“You’re on your way to martyrdom. Are you really going to worry about speeding?,” the Saudi asks him.
“I was surprised by the ease of relations with them, by their relaxed side,” says Refsdal, who converted to Islam while being held by the Afghan Taliban in 2009.
“If I hadn’t known they were Al Qaeda, I would never have guessed based on my gut feeling alone.”
But does his documentary not risk giving a grandstand to members of what many countries consider to be a “terrorist” organisation?
“I understand that there may be people who disagree with it in principle and argue that Al Qaeda attacked New York in 2001, Madrid in 2004, London in 2005, Paris and Charlie Hebdo,” Refsdal says.
“But the film isn’t trying to tell people what to think, it’s just depicting their daily lives and then it’s up to people to think what they want after having seen it.”
* Agence France-Presse
