APART FROM occasional sunbathing on the roof, Abu Ibrahim al-Hashimi al-Qurayshi never emerged from his compound in Atmeh, in Syria’s north-western Idlib province. It was from the third floor of that residential building—a stone’s throw from the Turkish border—that he ran the Islamic State (IS) jihadist group through couriers. And it was there that Mr Qurayshi (who was also known as Hajji Abdullah) died on February 3rd, the second successive IS leader to blow himself up during an American raid in Idlib in just over two years. His death is a setback to a group which was preparing to fight back after losing all of its territory and much of its influence since its peak in 2014.
America caught wind of Mr Qurayshi’s whereabouts months ago and became certain of them in early December. American planners built a tabletop model of the compound, much as they did for Osama bin Laden’s lair in 2011, and military engineers predicted how the building would fare if Mr Qurayshi blew himself up deliberately. Officials considered striking the building from the air, but opted for a raid to minimise civilian casualties. On February 1st Joe Biden, America’s president, gave the final order.
American special forces travelled by helicopter to the compound and surrounded it. They were helped by members of the Syrian Democratic Forces, a largely Kurdish militia group that has served as America’s de facto ground force against IS for seven years. As Mr Biden and his team watched from the White House’s situation room in real time, Mr Qurayshi detonated explosives, destroying much of the third floor and killing himself and others. One of his lieutenants barricaded himself in the building and, with his wife, was killed in a battle with the Americans. In all, at least 13 people, including women and children, were killed. All casualties “were due to the acts of IS terrorists”, says a senior Biden administration official.
The timing of the raid is noteworthy. Though IS is a shadow of its former self, it has been recruiting new members, spreading propaganda and gearing up for a larger offensive across Syria and Iraq, says Colin Clarke, director of research at the Soufan Group, a security consultancy in New York. On January 20th it attacked and seized the Ghweiran prison in north-eastern Syria for a week, allowing hundreds of inmates to escape—a troubling echo of the huge prison breaks that fuelled its advances in 2014. On January 21st it killed 11 Iraqi soldiers in eastern Diyala province.
Mr Qurayshi was a mysterious figure; his name is thought to be a nom de guerre. He became the leader of IS in 2019, after the death of Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi in another American raid. He was closely involved in the group’s recent operations, and in plotting abroad, according to American officials. He is also thought to have played a role in the persecution of the Yazidi minority group in Iraq. Though Mr Qurayshi was not as prominent as Mr Baghdadi, he was respected in jihadist circles for his knowledge of religious law and combat experience. “The question becomes how legitimate the next leader is viewed throughout the jihadist world,” says Mr Clarke, who suggests that al-Qaeda—through its Syrian surrogate, a group known as Hurras-al-Din—may spy an opportunity to poach IS commanders and lieutenants.
Mr Qurayshi’s location is also notable. His compound was located in a part of Idlib province that is dominated by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), a group once allied to al-Qaeda and which has been at war with IS for years. That two consecutive IS leaders have died deep in HTS-held territory in just over two years suggests that Mr Qurayshi did not choose the safest hiding place. That Turkey was not told of the raid in advance is also telling. Some Western officials expressed frustration that an IS leader lived so close to the border undetected.
The raid, says Suzanne Raine, a former British counter-terrorism official, is “an unhelpful but vital reminder that we didn’t finish anything, we just got bored and walked off”—a reference to America’s withdrawal of troops from Syria in late 2019 (around 900 special-forces personnel remain). It underscores, too, how the Biden administration is stretched in many directions at once. Russia’s build-up of forces near Ukraine has resulted in the largest military crisis in Europe in decades, forcing Mr Biden to deploy 3,000 troops to eastern European countries this week. Diplomatic talks over Iran’s nuclear programme have come close to collapse. And in Asia, China has steadily intensified diplomatic and military pressure on Taiwan. Even as the Pentagon pivots to potential future conflicts, it is not yet done with the old ones. ■