From the Biographies of the Distinguished Martyrs: (26) Abu Radwan al-Tunisi
A Tunisian jihadist in Iraq
The twenty-sixth “distinguished martyr” is Abu Radwan al-Tunisi, a jihadist from Tunisia. Most of the biography is dedicated to Abu Radwan’s journey to Iraq and his battlefield exploits. The most notable detail about him is that he was a Tunisian with high status in JTJ. There were not many Tunisians in Iraq but they ones there punched above their weight in importance. Another high-ranking Tunisian jihadist in JTJ was Abu Usama al-Tunisi, one of the five to execute Nick Berg–he is on the far left. Another notable detail in the biography is the immense hostility of various North African governments to jihadists attempting to enter Iraq. Abu Radwan was detained and tortured by Egyptian, Libyan, and Tunisian authorities. This tight control likely played some part in stemming the tide of North African jihadists, especially Tunisians, headed to Iraq during the 2000s. After the Arab Spring in Tunisia, a flood of fighters would go to Syria to join the Islamic State, JTJ’s descendant organization.
Abu Radwan al-Tunisi
I have just returned, my feet tracing the earth, my eyes filled with tears, and my heart consumed by confusion. I return after standing by a KIA Pickup truck, on which lay a handsome young man in an eternal, peaceful slumber. Around him stood a number of my brothers and his brothers, except for Abu Ziyad, who sat beside him, laughing and then weeping. He held the face of his brother, beloved, and lifelong companion until death, Abu Radwan, saying, "Farewell, you have won, my beloved." Then he fell into a state akin to hysteria, repeating, "Hah... hah... farewell," laughing and crying until he moved everyone around him to tears.
Abu Usama, standing at his head, said: "His face before the operation was like the moon, and I bear witness that he was the bravest I have ever seen." I thought to myself: "And I too bear witness." Then Abu Samir, his companion, said: "I bear witness that you fought seeking death and the reward of martyrdom–and you have attained it, my beloved."
A third said: "By God, there was none braver among us than you. On such-and-such day, you did such-and-such..."
A fourth said: "I bear witness that you never sought leadership or fame. You were always loving to your brothers, sincere and truthful..."
I heard all this but could not bring myself to look at my beloved. Suddenly, I burst into tears, trying to restrain myself but failing. Then I pointed at Abu Radwan and said: "These are God’s martyrs on earth. I bear witness that you were as they said, and I hope, my beloved, that you find this testimony before you and that God elevates you to the highest ranks."
At this, even those who had not wept before broke down. Silence enveloped the place. I tried to steady myself and said: "What is this, brothers? This is our way. We are a people who do not die in our beds. Martyrdom is our highest aspiration, and we pray to God to join him as those advancing, not retreating, as he was." Then I said: "Come on, brothers, disperse. Let only a few brothers stay to bury him. Let only the ansar remain here–all the muhajirin must leave, so our gathering does not become the cause of our destruction." Quickly, the brothers complied with my advice. Only Abu Ziyad, Abu Samir, and Al-Faruq remained with me, saying: "Allow us to bury our brother, for he was..." I permitted them, and everyone left, their eyes and hearts filled with sorrow.
His name was Hamza, his kunya Abu Radwan–and both name and kunya suited him. He was from Tunisia, the city of Bizerte. His journey to Iraq and his jihad there is a story and an anthem. Here, my brother, is a summary of that path.
Hamza gathered all the money he could until he secured his travel tickets. He traveled to Libya, then to Egypt, then boarded a ferry from Egypt's Nuweiba port to Aqaba. On the ferry, he handed over his passport to be stamped for entry, as was customary. But while everyone else got their documents back, our brother did not. He was called, then taken to a room with bearded men who pretended to shout at him. He understood the situation. Then he was taken to an underground cellar, where he found himself surrounded by armed soldiers, their weapons trained on him.
Immediately, he was taken for interrogation. They pressed him on one question: "Do you want to go to Iraq?" He denied it. Then they took him to a torture chamber and beat him until he collapsed. Next, they placed him in a room with chairs arranged in concentric circles, with one chair in the center. They sat him there, tied him up–his body already broken from torture–and left him.
The poor man leaned back, only to feel a knife protruding from the chair, piercing him if he tried to rest. His eyes were blindfolded. When he placed his hand on the armrest to adjust himself, blood gushed–the edges of the chair had been sharpened like blades. He remained like this for two days, without food or water, enduring nothing but beatings and torture–all over the same question: "Why do you want to go to Iraq?"
Then they contacted Tunisia. The Tunisian government was overjoyed, saying: "He is highly wanted here. Send him back." So they returned him the same way he came. When he reached Egypt, they arrested and tortured him for days–same question. Then he was handed to Libya, where they tortured him so severely that he prayed for the mercy of the Jordanian and Egyptian torture. Yet the question remained: "Why do you want to go to Iraq?"
Finally, he was handed over to Tunisia. In the Ministry of Interior’s vehicle, he was treated as usual for someone like him–a known "troublemaker," a "stubborn terrorist." He had been imprisoned many times for his beard and ideas. They would shave it, but he’d grow it back, leading to more arrests.
This time, however, he was nothing but a heap of flesh and bone, so they did nothing until reaching the capital. On the way, they stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch. While they were away getting food, a restaurant worker brought a meal to where the martyr was sitting. Sensing goodness in this man, Abu Radwan whispered: "Take this passport and leave. Keep it or burn it–just do something. I sense goodness in you."
The man took it and left. Then the deportation officers arrived, took Abu Radwan, and delivered him to the Ministry of Interior. When they asked for his passport, he said: "I don’t have it." They beat him for a full month, demanding it, while he insisted he had thrown it from the car. Finally, they released him–his condition was too severe.
Days later, Hamza (Abu Radwan) went to the neighboring city of Manzah. As he walked, he coincidentally met the restaurant worker again. They embraced, praising God for safety. The man said: "I was looking for you to return what you entrusted to me. I prayed to God to free you–all praise is to Him."
After retrieving his passport–stamped in red with warnings like "Wanted" and "Terrorist"–Abu Radwan went to Abu Ziyad, Abu Samir, and six other brothers. They agreed to travel again. They all set out, including Abu Radwan, with the same passport he had been tortured over, the same determination.
They reached Libya, the same country that had tortured him. When he placed his passport at the ticket counter, the officer stared in shock, then handed it back without a stamp, saying: "Go ahead."
Abu Radwan entered Libya in disbelief. From there, he traveled to another country, found a coordinator, and after a long, grueling journey, finally reached Iraq.
I mention this story for several reasons:
So every brother knows that means have limits.
That whoever relies on God, He will make a way for him.
So every hesitant brother knows: God will not excuse him. If this man could travel despite his ordeal, what about you?
That whoever is truthful with God, God will be truthful with him.
In Iraq, Abu Radwan became the unrivaled knight, the relentless lion who knew no rest. He threw himself into the embrace of death, hoping for martyrdom–yet each time, he returned safely, weeping that he was still alive.
He participated in the most critical operations:
The Third Abu Ghraib Prison Operation (Ghazwat Abu Anas al-Shami). Abu Radwan was the first to reach the prison wall, along with Abu Abdurrahman al-Yemeni. They climbed it, shouted Takbir, and blew open a side gate–only to find an earth barrier behind it.
The Counter-Terrorism Prison Operation, where he was one of only two who executed the final phase–entering the prison yard to free the brothers.
The Battle of Hayy al-Risala against the police station, where he played a major role.
He moved from battle to battle until the final operation in Baghdad on the 5th of Ramadan. It was postponed for security reasons, rescheduled for the next day. Everyone left laughing–except Abu Radwan. He secluded himself in a corner of the house, weeping bitterly. A brother asked: "What’s wrong?" He replied: "By God, we were turned back today only because of our sins. Sins are the reason–not security, not the road. Who will take care of Shaykh Abu Azzam’s wife? If we don’t take prisoners... they won’t release her. Who will care for the women? Who? Who?"
Later, when he calmed down, I approached him. He seemed normal again, greeting me with a radiant smile, embracing me, trying to kiss my head (which I resisted). As I left, I wondered: "Has Abu Radwan’s time truly come? He bears the marks of the martyrs." This was no illusion–we had come to recognize these signs.
That same day:
Abu Ziyad saw a vision: "Abu Radwan in radiant white garments, light shining from him, calling: 'Come... the trees here emit the fragrance of musk!'"
Abu Usama also saw a vision: "The heavens opened. Abu Radwan asked: 'Can we enter?' I said: 'No, my sins are many.' He replied: 'No, we can enter. With God’s permission, it is easy.'"
The next day, as the brothers prepared to depart, they bid farewell. Abu Samir embraced Abu Radwan, who took off his watch and handed it to him, saying: "Take this to remember me–I will not return today."
Abu Usama laughed: "God willing, you’ll return safely!"
Abu Radwan insisted: "No, I swear by God, I will not return." His seriousness startled them–he never joked or lied.
In the operation, Abu Radwan fired an RPG at an Interior Ministry patrol (mostly belonging to the treacherous Badr Brigades), then two more shells from 100 meters away. He then rushed toward the target with his Kalashnikov, bewildering everyone. He reached the vehicle, executing every tyrant inside with headshots, then sprayed the adjacent vehicle.
When his ammo ran out, he sprinted back, took a BKC from a brother, and charged again.
Then–a bullet to the head. He fell instantly, a martyr.
His brother Abu Ziyad carried him, pressed him to his chest, and ran to the brothers’ vehicle. They withdrew after defeating the enemy, carrying with them a groom escorted to his bride.
My brothers, what did Abu Radwan see that made him so certain he would not return? What did he do to be seen by two brothers in such a radiant state? Was it jihad alone? Sincerity? Love for God and His Messenger? Defending Muslim honor? Or something else?
God knows best–and He alone can reward him as he deserves.
I pray God does not deprive us of His reward or test us after Him. Amen.
Written by:
Abu Ismail al-Muhajir