Classified Woman-The Sibel Edmonds Story: A Memoir
Sibel D Edmonds
In this startling new memoir, Sibel Edmonds—the most classified woman in U.S. history—takes us on a surreal journey that begins with the secretive FBI and down the dark halls of a feckless Congress to a stonewalling judiciary and finally, to the national security whistleblowers movement she spearheaded. Having lived under Middle East dictatorships, Edmonds knows firsthand what can happen when government is allowed to operate in secret. Hers is a sobering perspective that combines painful experience with a rallying cry for the public’s right to know and to hold the lawbreakers accountable. With U.S. citizens increasingly stripped of their rights in a calibrated media blackout, Edmonds’ story is a wake-up call for all Americans who, willingly or unwillingly, traded liberty for illusive security in the wake of 9/11.
interpreter for these regular monthly meetings, Sarshar explained, which is where he and Amin came in. “Around the end of April, two thousand one,” he told me, “I was asked to accompany two special agents from the FBI-WFO … to a meeting arranged with this informant … We met in a park and spent nearly an hour discussing the case, asking detailed questions, and of course, with me translating back and forth. Once we were finished with the session and ready to head back to the WFO, the informant
anything from either. “Mike instructed me not to mention the report and let him handle it.” I paused. Now we had to report this incident, Dickerson’s attempt to shield targets. I assured him I would file a report with the unit supervisor; that “someone will get to the bottom of this.” I went back to my desk to write the memo, placed it inside a legalsize envelope with copies of Dickerson’s handwritten instructions and sealed it. Then I went to see Feghali in his office. The door was closed.
interviewed.) Colapinto assured us he would be present during all interview sessions. The very next day, my doorbell rang. When I asked who it was, the man identified himself as an officer with the DOD Inspector General’s Office; he and his assistant needed to speak with me for a few minutes. I immediately dialed Colapinto, who was out, so I asked for his partner, Steve Kohn. When Steve’s voice came on and I told him about my visitors, he advised me not to answer any questions and instead
trip me up? I didn’t want to think that way, so negatively; after all, he had always been kind to me. Yet, I found his timing curious, only days before the piece would air. I could tell from his voice he was distressed and nervous. “Fine,” I said, trusting this wouldn’t be a mistake. “Let’s meet tomorrow, early afternoon, lunch. Suggest a place.” We decided to meet at an Italian café in the mall in Tysons Corner. After I told Matthew about the meeting and my suspicions, he offered to observe us
asked my attorney and Kolesnik, who had high-level contacts at Senator Grassley’s office, to look into it. They exchanged peculiar glances. Finally, Colapinto cleared his throat. “Sibel, we finally got a response from the senator’s office. The IG notified them of another short delay, extension. They promised the Senate the report will be released by the end of April, only two months from now … this time they actually promised. According to what we heard from the Senate, the IG is done with the