P.R. for Pirates

This is for those of you who insist on asking, "What's next?" Who knew this was a job?


From The New York Times:
Beware, Sharks. P. R. Agents, Too.

By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN
NAIROBI, Kenya — It was probably my 50th call. The line had always been busy. Or the phone had been shut off.

But on Tuesday morning, someone actually picked up.

“Can I speak to the pirate spokesman, please?”

Pirate p.r? Strange. Stranger still to be interviewing, via satellite, a band of seafaring thieves bobbing in the Indian Ocean 700 miles away from my table at a sidewalk cafe in Nairobi. These were the buccaneers who on Sept. 25 hijacked a Ukrainian freighter crammed with tanks and grenade launchers, and by last week had the world’s two most fearsome navies, the Russian and the American, breathing down their necks.

Somali pirates may not go for eyeliner like Johnny Depp. But they seem almost as image conscious. In the 21st century, pirates have talking points, too.

Like: “You only die once,” according to Sugule Ali, their official spokesman.

Or: “We see people who dump waste in our waters. We see people who illegally fish in our waters. We see people doing all sorts of things in our waters.” Also Mr. Sugule.

And: “They can’t catch us like goats.” Again Mr. Sugule, who I was told in no uncertain terms was the only pirate allowed to be quoted. Or else.

Mr. Sugule seemed nonchalant. Maybe a touch gruff. I could, I imagined, almost hear a cavalier shrug in his voice.

Not a lot is known about this particular public relations professional. He sounded like he was somewhere between 25 and 40. His band of pirates is part of a group of former fishermen who hijack ships off the coast of anarchic Somalia and ransom them back to their owners, often for a million dollars plus. Mr. Sugule said he was from the central region of Somalia; in a country where the real geography is clan, “central region” is code for the Hawiye clan and most likely the Habir Gedir subclan, which has not exactly thrown its formidable muscle behind Somalia’s fledging government.

“Sugule may not be educated,” my translator said. “But he’s definitely street smart.”

I was given his number by a high-level contact in Nairobi who was involved in trying to bring this drama on the high seas to a peaceful end. In our 45-minute chat, Mr. Sugule educated me on all matters pirate, including what his group calls itself (“the Central Region Coast Guard”) to why he became a pirate (“We are patrolling our seas”) to what they want (“just money”).

I asked Mr. Sugule if he ever went to school. So many young men in Somalia haven’t. The central government collapsed in 1991, putting a whole generation out on the streets, where the only real authority is the business end of a machine gun.

“These questions are getting strange,” Mr. Sugule said. “Call back later.”

Click.