George answered with two words: al Qaeda.
Before 9/11, most Americans had never heard of al Qaeda. I had received my first briefing on the terrorist network as a presidential candidate. Arabic for “the base,” al Qaeda was a fundamentalist Islamic terror network hosted and supported by the Taliban government in Afghanistan. Its leader was Osama bin Laden, a radical Saudi from a wealthy family who had been expelled from the kingdom when he opposed the government’s decision to allow American troops to be there during the Gulf War. The group held extremist views and considered it their duty to kill anyone who stood in their way.
Al Qaeda had a penchant for high-profile attacks. Three years earlier, the terrorists had carried out simultaneous bombings of two American embassies in East Africa that killed more than two hundred and wounded more than five thousand. They were also behind the attack on the USS Cole that claimed the lives of seventeen American sailors off the coast of Yemen in October 2000. By the afternoon of 9/11, the intelligence community had discovered known al Qaeda operatives on the passenger manifests of the hijacked planes.
The CIA had been worried about al Qaeda before 9/11, but their intelligence pointed to an attack overseas. During the late spring and early summer of 2001, we had hardened security at embassies abroad, increased cooperation with foreign intelligence services, and issued warnings through the FAA about possible hijackings on international flights. In the first nine months of my presidency, we had helped disrupt terrorist threats to Paris, Rome, Turkey, Israel, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, and other places.
During the summer, I had asked the CIA to reexamine al Qaeda’s capabilities to attack inside the United States. In early August, the Agency delivered a Presidential Daily Briefing that reiterated bin Laden’s long-standing intent to strike America, but could not confirm any concrete plans. “We have not been able to corroborate some of the more sensational threat reporting, such as that … bin Laden wanted to hijack a U.S. aircraft,” the PDB read.*
On 9/11, it was obvious the intelligence community had missed something big. I was alarmed by the lapse, and I expected an explanation. But I did not think it was appropriate to point fingers or fix blame in the middle of the crisis. My immediate concern was that there could be more al Qaeda operatives in the United States.
I looked into the video screen in the Offutt bunker and told George Tenet to get his ears up, a term for listening to all the intelligence and running down every lead.
I also made clear that I planned to use the military in this war when the time was right. Our response would not be a pinprick cruise missile strike. As I later put it, we would do more than put “a million-dollar missile on a five-dollar tent.” When America responded to these attacks, it would be deliberate, forceful, and effective.
There was one more issue to cover on the videoconference: when to return to Washington? Secret Service Director Brian Stafford told me the capital was still not safe. This time, I put my foot down. I had decided to speak to the nation, and there was no way I was going to do it from an underground bunker in Nebraska.
On the flight back, Andy and CIA briefer Mike Morell came to see me in the conference room. Mike told me that the French intelligence service had provided reports of other operatives—so called sleeper cells—in the United States planning a second wave of attacks. It was a chilling phrase, “second wave.” I believed America could overcome the September 11 attacks without further panic. But a follow-on strike would be very difficult to bear. It was one of the darkest moments of the day.
As I was watching TV coverage on the flight home, I saw a photo of Barbara Olson. Barbara was a talented TV commentator and the wife of Solicitor General Ted Olson, who argued my side in the Florida recount case before the Supreme Court. She had been aboard American Airlines Flight 77, the plane that hit the Pentagon. She was my first personal connection to the tragedy. I reached Ted on the phone. He was calm, but I could sense the shock and devastation in his voice. I told him how sorry I felt. He told me how Barbara had called him from the hijacked flight and calmly relayed information. She was a patriot to the end. I vowed to Ted that we would find those responsible for her death.
The flight home also gave me a chance to check in with my parents. Mother and Dad had spent the night of September 10 at the White House and then left early on the morning of the eleventh. They had been in the air when news of the attacks came. The operator connected me with Dad. I could tell he was anxious. He wasn’t worried about my safety—he trusted the Secret Service to protect me—but he was concerned about the stress I would be feeling. I tried to put his mind at ease. “I’m just fine,” I said.
Dad put Mother on the phone. “Where are you?” I asked.
“We’re at a motel in Brookfield, Wisconsin,” she replied.
“What in the world are you doing there?”
“Son,” she retorted, “you grounded our plane!”
In an extraordinary feat, Transportation Secretary Norm Mineta and the FAA had overseen the safe landing of four thousand flights in just over two hours. I was hopeful that the terror from the skies was over.
I started thinking about what I should say to the country when I spoke from the Oval Office that night. My first instinct was to tell the American people that we were a nation at war. But as I watched the carnage on TV, I realized that the country was still in shock. Declaring war could further contribute to the anxiety. I decided to wait one day.
I did want to announce a major decision I had made: The United States would consider any nation that harbored terrorists to be responsible for the acts of those terrorists. This new doctrine overturned the approach of the past, which treated terrorist groups as distinct from their sponsors. We had to force nations to choose whether they would fight the terrorists or share in their fate. And we had to wage this war on the offense, by attacking the terrorists overseas before they could attack us again at home.
I also wanted the speech to convey my sense of moral outrage. The deliberate murder of innocent people is an act of pure evil. Above all, I wanted to express comfort and resolve—comfort that we would recover from this blow, and resolve that we would bring the terrorists to justice.
Air Force One touched down at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland just after 6:30 p.m. I moved quickly to Marine One, which lifted off for the ten-minute helicopter flight to the South Lawn. The chopper banked left and right in an evasive pattern. I felt no fear. I knew the Marine pilots of HMX-1 would get me home.
I looked out on an abandoned, locked-down Washington. In the distance I saw smoke rising from the Pentagon. The symbol of our military might was smoldering. I was struck by how skilled and ruthless the al Qaeda pilot must have been to fly directly into the low-lying building. My mind drifted back over history. I was looking at a modern-day Pearl Harbor. Just as Franklin Roosevelt had rallied the nation to defend freedom, it would be my responsibility to lead a new generation to protect America. I turned to Andy and said, “You’re looking at the first war of the twenty-first century.”
My first stop after landing on the South Lawn was the Oval Office. I read over a draft of my speech and modified a few lines. Then I went down to the PEOC, part of a hardened underground structure built during the early Cold War to withstand a substantial attack. The bunker is manned by military personnel around the clock and contains enough food, water, and electric power to sustain the president and his family for long periods of time. At the center of the facility is a conference room with a large wood table—a subterranean Situation Room. Laura was waiting for me there. We didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but we didn’t need to. Her hug was more powerful than any words.