Fatal Bomb in Morocco Shows Signs of Al Qaeda

The bomb appeared to have all the hallmarks of Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, Interior Minister Taieb Cherkaoui said, briefing the government in Rabat. “The manner reminds us of the style used generally by Al Qaeda,” he said. “And this leads us to think that there is a possibility of more dangers to come.”

But there was no claim of responsibility on Friday by Al Qaeda or any other group.

“This was not a suicide attack,” Mr. Cherkaoui said, adding that “it appears the bomb was set off remotely,” in remarks carried by the official news agency, MAP. He said the bomb contained ammonium nitrate. A Moroccan security official, asking for anonymity, said the bomb also contained triacetone triperoxide, or TATP, an explosive easily made and popular among bombers in the Middle East, including those from Al Qaeda.

The bombing is a serious blow to Morocco’s tourism industry, already hurt by the economic crisis and anxieties about popular protests that are stirring much of the Arab world. The site — a popular cafe facing the historic Djemma el Fna square — is a regular tourist stop, and the bombing appeared aimed at foreigners.

Fourteen of the 16 dead were foreigners, mostly French citizens, as well as two Canadians, a Briton and a Dutch tourist, officials said. There were 25 people wounded, 14 of whom remained in hospitals, Mr. Cherkaoui said.

Morocco’s king, Mohammed VI, has tried to respond to popular demands for more democracy by beginning constitutional reforms and releasing or commuting the sentences of 190 radical Islamic prisoners arrested after the last big terrorist bombing, in Casablanca in 2003, when 45 people died, including 12 suicide bombers.

On May 1, protesters plan another rally in Moroccan cities to demand a faster transition to a constitutional monarchy, the third such protest since Feb. 20.

Mohamed Darif, a political scientist at King Hassan University in Casablanca, said, “The finger is pointed at Al Qaeda,” and suggested that Al Qaeda in the Islamic Mahgreb had singled out a cafe popular with French tourists. The same group holds four French hostages and demands that for their return, France pull its troops out of Afghanistan.

“They would find no better spot than Marrakesh, which has become a French village, with a strong French presence,” Mr. Darif said.

But he suggested other possible culprits, including radical Islamists who want all their colleagues released from prison — nearly 2,000 or so are detained — and those who do not favor the king’s recent movement toward democratic reform.

Jean-Yves Moisseron, editor in chief of the France-based magazine Maghreb-Machrek, said the way the bombing was carried out pointed to Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, “since Marrakesh is a very touristy place with a bad reputation, a spot for prostitution and sexual tourism, with international jet-setters” who own houses in the old city.

“There is a very clear will to target tourists; otherwise they would have bombed 50 meters away,” he said, adding that the bombers had to get through significant police controls to hit the square, which is well protected. “They were surely well organized and significantly trained.”

Two of the dead were Michal Zekry, 29, an Israeli-Canadian who was pregnant, and her husband, Messod Wizman, 30, a Moroccan-Canadian. They had come from Shanghai to visit Mr. Wizman’s parents, who live in Casablanca, for Passover, and then took a trip to see Marrakesh.

“They were lovely together, married for three years and have a boy, 2,” said Mr. Wizman’s aunt. “She was pregnant. What happened was that they went to the hotel in Marrakesh, but their room was not ready, so they thought, ‘Why not have a coffee?’ and went to the Argana.” She paused, then said: “There are no words for that.” The couple had left their son with his grandparents.

Mr. Wizman, she said, grew up in Casablanca, studied in Paris and then went to Montreal, where he met his wife.

On Friday evening, the square was packed with people, but the coffee shops and restaurants normally filled with tourists were nearly empty.

Around the corner, the Mabrouka cinema was open, showing “Femmes en Miroirs,” about a young Moroccan photographer living in Paris who returns home to see her sick mother. Rashiq Moulay Alarbi, a literature student, said: “We are not afraid, we are going out. I want these people who did this to us to know that they have not succeeded.”

His friend Abdellah al-Khalaoui, a driver, expressed sorrow for the deaths and concern for the city. “We fear that the tourism will drop; it has already started,” he said. “Already the coffee shops in which people used to sit are empty.”

Nearby, a Spanish couple ate with friends at a small restaurant, undeterred. They were near the square on Thursday but did not hear the explosion. “We’re very sad for the people, but something like this could have happened in Barcelona or Paris as well,” said Manuel Sanroma, a mathematics professor at the University of Barcelona who was making his second visit to Marrakesh.

“We love the Arab world,” he said. “Terrorists can attack you anywhere.”

Souad Mekhennet reported from Marrakesh, and Steven Erlanger from Washington. Ma?a de la Baume contributed reporting from Paris.

 

Finally Ready to Confront Everest After Fatal Climb of ’96

Beidleman was serving as a guide under Scott Fischer in May 1996 when a raging storm overtook two climbing teams high on the mountain. Five climbers on the teams died, including Fischer, who led one team, and Rob Hall, who led the other. In all, eight climbers died during the storm, a story chronicled by Jon Krakauer in his best-selling book “Into Thin Air.”

“It’s not like I dread talking about it; it’s not taboo,” Beidleman, 51, said last month before leaving for Katmandu, Nepal, to begin what he hopes will be a successful climb of Everest. “But when I reflect back, it doesn’t give me a warm feeling. It’s not something I’m necessarily proud of.”

Beidleman and the three other members of his team (he is a co-guide for an amateur climber) will make their way from Katmandu to Everest’s South Side base camp. The intended route, via the South Col and the Southeast Ridge, will have Beidleman retracing his steps from 1996.

“Hopefully, there’s a closing chapter for me to what happened in ’96, because in returning, the story doesn’t have to be about the past,” he said. “The story can be about the future. And to me, that’s a significant change and a necessary condition to engage in this.”

Raised among the mountains here, Beidleman is an engineer and designer of things like aircraft autopilot systems and industrial machines. He is also an accomplished backcountry skier and runner, and a married father of two. The two-month expedition means confronting anew the events of ’96, as well as the prospects of another adventure to 29,035 feet.

Beidleman said it took some finesse to warm his family to the idea of returning to Everest, especially his 83-year-old mother, who, he said, “let me know in no uncertain terms how she felt about it.”

His wife, Amy, was more understanding.

“In the end, Amy knows me as a climber,” Beidleman said, noting that they became engaged in 1994 during an expedition to Makalu, located about 14 miles east of Everest and at 27,825 feet the fifth-tallest mountain in the world. “She knows when things are great out in the mountains, it’s one of the coolest experiences you can have.”

He added: “Still, certainly this trip will bring back a lot of raw emotions. But I have no intentions of not making it back. I don’t view this as something that’s extraordinarily dangerous, if things are done correctly.”

The events of May 10 and 11, 1996, on the Southeast Ridge, the basis for “Into Thin Air,” are not without controversy. Krakauer’s narrative placed a spotlight on the actions of Anatoli Boukreev, a guide on Fischer’s team who was climbing without oxygen and descended from the summit without clients. Krakauer also wrote of blown turnaround times, inexperienced clients, competition among commercial guide outfits and communication failures. Later, Boukreev, who rescued several climbers, rebutted Krakauer’s interpretation of the events in his own account, “The Climb,” written with Weston DeWalt.

Boukreev, one of two climbers from the expedition to return to Everest, died in 1997 in an avalanche on Annapurna, a 26,545-foot peak in the Himalayas.

”My intention is not to come out 15 years later and contradict something Krakauer or Anatoli said,” said Beidleman, who was portrayed favorably in both books. “It’s very controversial when people start talking about who did what, and I don’t want to go back and re-expose old wounds or try to right any of the wrongs.”

He added: “The truth of it is tough, and it’s ugly. We went to the mountain with high expectations of making the summit and coming home happy. And not everybody did. The angst has to do with the fact that some accounts that came afterward exacerbated issues and drove wedges between people that shouldn’t have been driven. But that’s secondary. The problem was that people didn’t make it off the mountain; people died. We all feel, I hope, really badly about that.”

Ed Viesturs, an American high-altitude mountaineer and longtime friend of Beidleman’s who was with the Imax film team on Everest in ’96 and participated in the rescue operation, said the “Into Thin Air” episode would never be resolved.

“I probably talk about it and think about it more frequently than any other climb I’ve ever been on,” said Viesturs, who has been to Everest 11 times and climbed all 14 of the world’s 8,000-meter (more than 26,000-foot) peaks without oxygen.

“Neal certainly wasn’t the cause of what happened,” he said. “He’s a guy that I believe saved some lives.”

Recalling 1996, Beidleman said the storm was harrowing, “roiling up from the jungle.”

He added, “As we headed down into it, people were running out of oxygen; they were staggered, people couldn’t walk, you had to pick them up on your shoulder.

 

Finally Ready to Confront Everest After Fatal Climb of ’96

Beidleman was serving as a guide under Scott Fischer in May 1996 when a raging storm overtook two climbing teams high on the mountain. Five climbers on the teams died, including Fischer, who led one team, and Rob Hall, who led the other. In all, eight climbers died during the storm, a story chronicled by Jon Krakauer in his best-selling book “Into Thin Air.”

“It’s not like I dread talking about it; it’s not taboo,” Beidleman, 51, said last month before leaving for Katmandu, Nepal, to begin what he hopes will be a successful climb of Everest. “But when I reflect back, it doesn’t give me a warm feeling. It’s not something I’m necessarily proud of.”

Beidleman and the three other members of his team (he is a co-guide for an amateur climber) will make their way from Katmandu to Everest’s South Side base camp. The intended route, via the South Col and the Southeast Ridge, will have Beidleman retracing his steps from 1996.

“Hopefully, there’s a closing chapter for me to what happened in ’96, because in returning, the story doesn’t have to be about the past,” he said. “The story can be about the future. And to me, that’s a significant change and a necessary condition to engage in this.”

Raised among the mountains here, Beidleman is an engineer and designer of things like aircraft autopilot systems and industrial machines. He is also an accomplished backcountry skier and runner, and a married father of two. The two-month expedition means confronting anew the events of ’96, as well as the prospects of another adventure to 29,035 feet.

Beidleman said it took some finesse to warm his family to the idea of returning to Everest, especially his 83-year-old mother, who, he said, “let me know in no uncertain terms how she felt about it.”

His wife, Amy, was more understanding.

“In the end, Amy knows me as a climber,” Beidleman said, noting that they became engaged in 1994 during an expedition to Makalu, located about 14 miles east of Everest and at 27,825 feet the fifth-tallest mountain in the world. “She knows when things are great out in the mountains, it’s one of the coolest experiences you can have.”

He added: “Still, certainly this trip will bring back a lot of raw emotions. But I have no intentions of not making it back. I don’t view this as something that’s extraordinarily dangerous, if things are done correctly.”

The events of May 10 and 11, 1996, on the Southeast Ridge, the basis for “Into Thin Air,” are not without controversy. Krakauer’s narrative placed a spotlight on the actions of Anatoli Boukreev, a guide on Fischer’s team who was climbing without oxygen and descended from the summit without clients. Krakauer also wrote of blown turnaround times, inexperienced clients, competition among commercial guide outfits and communication failures. Later, Boukreev, who rescued several climbers, rebutted Krakauer’s interpretation of the events in his own account, “The Climb,” written with Weston DeWalt.

Boukreev, one of two climbers from the expedition to return to Everest, died in 1997 in an avalanche on Annapurna, a 26,545-foot peak in the Himalayas.

”My intention is not to come out 15 years later and contradict something Krakauer or Anatoli said,” said Beidleman, who was portrayed favorably in both books. “It’s very controversial when people start talking about who did what, and I don’t want to go back and re-expose old wounds or try to right any of the wrongs.”

He added: “The truth of it is tough, and it’s ugly. We went to the mountain with high expectations of making the summit and coming home happy. And not everybody did. The angst has to do with the fact that some accounts that came afterward exacerbated issues and drove wedges between people that shouldn’t have been driven. But that’s secondary. The problem was that people didn’t make it off the mountain; people died. We all feel, I hope, really badly about that.”

Ed Viesturs, an American high-altitude mountaineer and longtime friend of Beidleman’s who was with the Imax film team on Everest in ’96 and participated in the rescue operation, said the “Into Thin Air” episode would never be resolved.

“I probably talk about it and think about it more frequently than any other climb I’ve ever been on,” said Viesturs, who has been to Everest 11 times and climbed all 14 of the world’s 8,000-meter (more than 26,000-foot) peaks without oxygen.

“Neal certainly wasn’t the cause of what happened,” he said. “He’s a guy that I believe saved some lives.”

Recalling 1996, Beidleman said the storm was harrowing, “roiling up from the jungle.”

He added, “As we headed down into it, people were running out of oxygen; they were staggered, people couldn’t walk, you had to pick them up on your shoulder.