Man faces another sentence in ISIS case
Would-be fighter may get more prison time after 18-month term
Over shawarma at a restaurant in Istanbul in 2014, two Houston friends parted ways: One would stick with his plan to catch a bus to the front lines and join a new group called the Islamic State in the burgeoning revolution in Syria; the other, who’d pitched the idea, would ditch his secret itinerary and head back to Texas.
Ten months later, family members learned that the friend who’d stayed and joined the group known as ISIS, Sixto Ramiro Garcia, had died in the Middle East. Meanwhile, Asher Abid Khan — who had devised the plan, helped Garcia get a passport and connected him with an ISIS recruiter — was living with his family in Spring, delivering
pizza and working on a degree in mechanical engineering at the University of Houston.
Khan, who was charged with providing material support to the infamous jihadi group, served one of the lightest federal sentences in the country for his crime. The sentence prompted the Justice Department to mount a successful appeal. On Friday, Khan will be back in court in Houston facing the prospect of more prison time.
Prosecutors believe U.S. District Judge Lynn Hughes should have tacked on a steep “terrorism enhancement” to Khan’s sentence because he backed the group known for enslaving and raping women and children and distributing gruesome videos of militants beheading captives, and because he effectively recruited a combatant, encouraging his friend down a path that led to his death.
Garcia’s mother wept in court during Khan’s sentencing in June 2018 and penned a mournful letter to the judge asking that he punish Khan fairly for what he did. The judge took into account at sentencing Khan’s expression of remorse and the fact that he’d been outspoken with others about the traps into which he’d fallen.
Hughes has the latitude to impose a longer or shorter sentence — or to reimpose the 18-month term Khan already completed.
Ken Magidson, the former U.S. attorney for the Houston region, called the resentencing “highly unusual,” noting that the government never appealed a criminal sentence during his tenure. Nationwide, the average term for providing material support to ISIS is more than 13 years in prison, according to the Program on Extremism at George Washington University.
Khan, 25, who took finals this week in drafting and thermodynamics, told the Houston Chronicle that when classes are in session, he helps staff an information table on campus for a Muslim student group. He talks openly on the UH breezeway with students about how close-minded he was at 19 and how deluded he was by ISIS’ glossy online propaganda.
“I knew suicide-bombing was against Islam. I knew killing innocent people was wrong, yet I refused to believe they engaged in that,” Khan said.
The two recruits had bonded as teens at the Champions mosque, sharing their horror over videos of chemical attacks on Syrian children.
The men were among 40,000 foreigners who traveled to the region to be part of ISIS, according to Russell Travers, deputy director of the U.S. National Counterterrorism Center.
Some, such as Khan, were lured by slick videos, including a wholesome variety of mass-distributed clips showing revolutionaries baking bread and handing out candy to children, said Seamus Hughes, deputy director of the George Washington University Program on Extremism.
Khan’s journey into the realm of ruthless terrorists began in his birthplace in the Houston suburbs. His Pakistani immigrant parents taught him the basics of Islam but emphasized schoolwork and family obligations over anything else he and his three brothers pursued.
Khan became enamored with religion, prompted by a witty classmate in a hijab who laughed at him when he stumbled trying to recite “The Abundance,” a wellknown verse from the Quran.
He started researching Islam on Google: “The more I looked it up, the more I realized this is something I can find identity in,” he said.
He became a regular at Masjid Al Salam, the “mosque of peace,” a Spring congregation where he found the deep companionship he’d been craving, including from a kind, boisterous jock who went by Abdullah Ali. Ali, formerly Garcia, was a Muslim convert.
Khan was upset about his parents’ lack of devotion to Islam and rattled that his father willingly sold beer at the gas station where he worked.
After high school, Khan moved to Sydney to live with an uncle. Still he felt deeply and profoundly lonely.
He delved into propaganda and reached out to possible recruiters who could get him to Syria or Iraq.
Khan connected with an Australian expat, Mohamed Zuhbi.
Khan then sent a Facebook friend request to Ali in Texas and said he was thinking of going to help people in Syria. He’d found a recruiter who’d would meet them in Turkey and take them across the border. The FBI began investigating Ali and found the Facebook messages between him and Khan.
Khan remembers Ali messaging back something like, “bro i’m in!”
Days before takeoff, Ali messaged that he was nervous: “If I could I would destroy all the butterflys in my stomach.”
They were among 300 people with U.S. roots who attempted to join ISIS and at least 82 followed through, according to Hughes, the terrorism expert.
Khan left a vague handwritten note at his uncle’s saying he was leaving to help people overseas and boarded a flight to Istanbul on Feb. 24, 2014. Khan said he was “freaking out the whole time” on that flight, wanting to back out. During the stopover in Kuala Lumpur, he got an easy out.
Relatives messaged him that his mom had suffered a heart attack and was in the intensive care unit. He told Ali, who was on a stopover in London, that he’d changed his mind. Then Ali freaked out.
“Dude you can’t pull (expletive) like that, I didn’t come with that much cash, I have no connections I’ve got no clue,” he wrote on Facebook.
Khan called his parents’ house, and his mother picked up. He realized it was a ruse, so he sent Ali a message saying he’d see him at the airport in Istanbul. They hugged at Khan’s gate and walked the city streets at sunrise until they found a restaurant.
Khan was sure at that point he was going back. His mom’s illness had been a convenient lie, an opportunity to see how much his family cared. Prosecutors, however, say Ali was not aware of the ruse involving his mom until he returned to the U.S.
Once Khan was back in Houston, he helped Ali connect with the recruiter. Khan said he’d send money if Ali needed it. Ali messaged about an AK, likely a rifle.
Fifteen months later, Khan heard banging in the early morning outside his parents’ house. FBI agents with guns handcuffed him, his mother and his brothers. As neighbors looked on, the agents walked them out and had them stand in the driveway.
He thought it was a mistake. The agents then uncuffed each of his family members — except him.
During his time in federal prison, he thought a lot about what happened to Ali.
“I spent the last five years regretting it,” he said. “I try not to think about it. It’s kind of just part of my life now.”
His lawyer, David Adler, argued before the district and appellate courts that Khan has showed remorse for his actions.
“Show me the convicted bank robber who takes the time and effort to warn others about the downside of robbing banks,” he said. “The bureaucracy’s existence depends on labeling every defendant as the worst of the worst. Very few involved with handling these cases are capable of considering each defendant individually, as the law requires.”