My Visit to the Foreign Ministry in Yemen
The Foreign Ministry building sits on a wide-open plot of land adjacent to to major roads in Sana’a. The building looks fairly modern, and there is a security entrance off one of the main roads. There is a small hut with one guard, and the typical rolling rail of 6” metal spikes across the driveway.
We pull up to the outer perimeter entrance and the driver tells the guard I’m an American journalist. The man looks in the car and waves us in without any inspection of the vehicle, my back, the trunk, etc. We pull up to the second gate, which is at a fence that surrounds the building complex, and the driver again tells the guard I’m an American journalist. The guard tells the driver to park the car and I get out. I walk to the gate and a man asks to look in my bag. I open it, and he asks a question I can’t quite understand. He then says “TV?” I say, “radio.” With that he waves me in and points to the building.
It’s not clear whether I should enter the side by the gate or walk around to the front. I walk in the side and expect to walk through a security check and then announce myself.
Instead, I walk in the door and am immediately in a hallway lined by offices. I walk through in the direction of the front entrance. I pass people in the hall and in their offices, and no one says a word.
At the end of the hall, I come to a foyer. There is a long table, but no one there, and no sign of a security or reception area. I turn to the right and follow another short hallway to a larger foyer. Again, no desk, no security, no sign of where to go. I am walking around the Foreign Ministry building with no escort, ID badge, and no security screening. This is disconcerting.
I walk around the lobby area and finally an assortment of men in suits mull in. One approaches me, and I tell him I have an appointment with the minister. He asks what time and I tell him 8:30. “Are you sure you don’t mean 9:30?” he asks. I tell him again 8:30, and he asks who scheduled the appointment. I tell him I spoke with the minister’s secretary. Another man nods, and they escort me to the elevator.
They walk me to the secretary’s office, and he greets me and chats for a minute amid the crush or people coming in and out of the office. Various men in suits are sitting waiting, and women constantly walk in with papers for the secretary to sign or take to the Minister. The phone rings constantly. The secretary is unfazed by any of it.
Things finally calm down for a moment and I ask him if things have been crazy for the last couple of months, and he rolls his eyes. He tells me in perfect English that it’s been insane with journalists and diplomats flooding the office from all over the world.
We briefly discuss some of the challenges and issues in the country. He tells me that there are parallel issues – combating the extremists, and long term development work. He says that he thinks that things have finally reached a point in the country that the government knows it has to take decisive action and the recent strikes against al Qaeda are an example.
He tells me that there are many problems and no easy answers, and hopes that the international community will partner with Yemen to make progress. He says that in a way it’s a good thing that the undie-bomber (my term, not his) both tried and failed, because it brought long overdue international attention and has also focused the Yemeni government.
More people shuffle in and out of the office, and after a few minutes, the secretary escorts me into the Minister’s office. I sit and wait for a few minutes while he signs a pile of papers.
Finally, the Minister shuts off the sound of the TV (although not the picture) and we begin to talk. We quickly go through the issues of the day – terrorism, US-Yemen relations/cooperation, regional relations, etc. Initially, he spends more time staring past me at the TV, but gradually begins to lock in with me. It’s a quick, cordial, and far from groundbreaking conversation, but important to get the official take.
He reiterates that US troops and resources are needed to help train Yemeni forces, and that trainers are fine, but there will be no combat forces on the ground. He states that he believes that relations with the US and the Gulf Countries are now changing, but understands there is a history of mistrust to move beyond.
After 15 minutes, he ends the interview. I turn off the recorder and we chat for a few more minutes. One thing of interest he says is that Yemen has not received any information about any American ex-convicts reported to have moved to Yemen. In January the Senate Foreign Relations Committee released a report that as many as 36 American former convicts have relocated to Yemen and might have joined up with extremists. The Foreign Minister says that US officials have not shared any details with him.
He then asks how my stay in Yemen is going and I say that all in all well. I mention that I’ve been having difficulty getting the Ministry of Information and the counterterrorism department on the same page and that the CT branch claims they have not received the permission required for me to visit them. The Ministry of Information claims otherwise. The Foreign Minister directs his secretary to help out.
I follow the secretary back to his office and explain the communications I’ve had over the issue and he says he will make some calls. I sit in his office for about 20 minutes as he bounces between calls on the two land lines in the office, his cell phone, various officials who walk in and out, women bringing documents for him to sign, and other random requests. He handles it all with a level of calmness and aplomb I haven’t seen before in any of the government offices I’ve visited in the Arab World.
After a while, I notice that he keeps writing appointments in a paper date book. There is a computer on his desk (according to the label on the side, a Chinese PC with a 1.86Gb processor, 512Mb of RAM, and a 160Gb hard drive – hardly a state of the art machine, but should handle any reasonable tasks), but he never so much as glances at it. Everything is done by paper, pen, and phone. He doesn’t check email, an electronic calendar or anything else.
Finally, I hear him on the phone saying something about an American journalist. He chats for a few minutes and then tells me that he will fax over my information and tell the counterterrorism branch that the Foreign Minister has authorized me to meet with them. He says he’ll call me as soon as he gets confirmation.
With that, I get up to leave and ask for his card. He hands me his card and the Foreign Minister’s as well. The Minister’s email address is a “hotmail” account. That tells you a bit about a country when the Foreign Ministry does not have its own email system, and the minister himself gives out a hotmail account.
I head down the elevator, and just as I am walking out of the front entrance, an armored SUV zooms up to the front door, nearly knocking me over. A second one pulls up to its side and three armed men jump out. I continue walking and turn back to see a tall Caucasian man step out of the first vehicle and enter the ministry building. I could not determine who it was or what country he might be from, but the manner in which he arrived to the building was shocking. It was as if he were fleeing gunfire – and there wasn’t the slightest hint of a security threat that I could see anywhere, but perhaps it’s just standard protocol.
An hour later, I have a meeting at the UNICEF office in Sana’a. It’s surrounded by cement barricades in the streets to prevent traffic within a block of the building. Armed security guards watch the streets from a couple of checkpoints. One guard points me to an unmarked metal door. I walk up and it buzzes open. I walk inside, put my bag through an X-Ray machine, and walk through a metal detector. One of the security guards gives me the wand treatment, and then buzzes me through another metal door to a reception desk where I wait for my contact to come and get me. I hand over an ID and receive a guest badge. My contact comes into the lobby, and then we enter the complex through a third metal door.
Since I have been in Yemen, I have been to three government office buildings, the homes of several government officials, and the tightest security I have been through is the UNICEF office. The security at the UNICEF office was not onerous, nor particularly over the top all things considered. But their level of security was a stark, and disconcerting contrast to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Personally, I would have felt much more comfortable if the Ministry had at least the same level of security as UNICEF…