As the time grew closer to a mission, the bomber was moved to a specially prepared room. Its walls were inscribed with verses from the Koran. Between the verses were painted green birds flying in a purple sky, a reminder that they carry the souls of martyrs to Allah. The indoctrination became more focused. The bomber was told paradise was very close. When the time came, all he must do was press the detonator button to enter the promised world.
For hours the advisers and the human bomb continued to pray and fast together. In between, the practical side of his departure to paradise was taken care of. All of the bomber’s earthly debts were settled by the Martyrs Jihad Committee. He was told his family would become honored members of their community.
There were constant checks to ensure that the bomber showed no signs of fear. Reassured, the advisers then conferred on him the title
In the final stages, the bomber placed a copy of the Koran inside his clothes. Over it went the body suit. A wire to the detonator button was taped to the palm of his right hand.
The advisers escorted the bomber close to the target area. They bade farewell with the promise given to all human bombers: “Allah is with you. Allah will give you success so that he can receive you in paradise.”
Later, as the bomber pressed the button, he cried out,
Almost certainly these were the last earthly words Wafa’a Ali Idris spoke.
Meir Dagan had made a close study of the young woman who had chosen to die. She was assured of her place in the pantheon of Islamic martyrdom. She was the first woman suicide bomber to launch herself against unsuspecting Israelis, doing so on a fine spring morning in 2002—the kind of morning that Israelis liked to remind themselves was why they called this troubled land the Promised Land.
On that Sunday morning Wafa’a was close to her thirty-second birthday. Her proudest gift was a signed, framed photo of Yasser Arafat, personally given to her by the chairman of the PLO. She had been a member of his Fatah organization since, as a teenager, she threw her first stones against Israeli soldiers on the West Bank.
At eighteen, she had married a distant cousin who was a blacksmith. Ten years later his mother forced the couple to divorce because Wafa’a had been unable to produce a child.
She joined the Red Crescent Society after the divorce, working as a paramedic for Islam’s equivalent of the Red Cross.
“She was in the thick of the fighting. She would help the injured and often carry the badly wounded and dying children,” her mother later said with pride. “At the end of a long day in the front line, my daughter would cry in my arms as she recalled the terrible things she witnessed.”
Wafa’a’s circle of friends started to change. In the back street cafés she sipped coffee with members of Hamas, founded in 1987 during the first Intifada, in which she had participated. She listened to their plans to create an Islamic state. She also began to mix with Hezbollah, an equally extreme group. They filled her mind with more fanaticism.
Israel’s Shin Bet—its internal security force—later established that she became involved with Palestinian Islamic Jihad. It was another step into the world of ruthless militancy that now permeated her life. During the month of Ramadan, 2001, she met a recruiter for the Al Aqsa Martyrs Brigade.
Her mother said, “Wafa’a had finally found what she wanted. A chance to show she was a true daughter of Palestine.”
Now, on that Sunday, five months after she had been accepted by the Al Aqsa Martyrs Brigade, she was ready to die for them.
On the night before, while the streets of Ramallah were filled with young discogoers, an elderly woman delivered a packet to the house where Wafa’a lived with her widowed mother. The packet contained a new bra and panties, along with a customized body suit. It was designed to conceal up to three kilos of high explosives and specially sharpened nails and razor fragments. The suit was designed to fit under Wafa’a’s street clothes. It had several pockets deep enough to take sticks of explosives. They would be distributed around her upper torso. Other pockets around her waist were for the nails and razor fragments. There was a separate pouch that extended over the genital area. Later Dr. Ariel Merari, a ranking expert at Tel Aviv University on the techniques of suicide bombers, suggested the pouch was created “because the Israeli security forces never search Arab women in that area of their body.”
