Osama bin Laden doubts fuel cynicism

"IF you bring him, then we will pray for him. When we see his dead body, only then can we pray."

"IF you bring him, then we will pray for him. When we see his dead body, only then can we pray."

In a half-finished hilltop parlour with million-dollar views, Abbottabad's most senior imam articulates a view held strongly among residents of this lush mountain town.

Al-Qa'ida issued its first confirmation of Osama bin Laden's death in an internet statement last night, saying the terrorist leader's blood "will not be wasted".

But in Abbottabad, where bin Laden was killed, the initial shock at the news that the world's most wanted man had been hiding for years just 105km from the capital, Islamabad, is mixed with doubt.

And slow-rising indignation.

"People went inside Osama bin Laden's house (after the US military operation early on Monday) and saw so much blood," said Hoshin Khan, a blue-eyed Pathan in the barbershop around the corner from the compound in Bilal Town.

"My friend from the army went in and when he came out his shoes were covered with blood."

His friend Nasir Khan adds: "Nobody saw Osama bin Laden there. We only knew two men - two good, innocent men - and four to six beautiful children."

The only three photos released from the operation so far have hardly helped the US cause.

Taken by a Pakistani security official in the immediate aftermath of the operation and sold to a wire agency, they show three dead men lying in wide, thick pools of their own blood.

In one, a child's fluorescent orange and green water pistol peeks out from behind a man's blood-soaked head - an incendiary reminder to locals that children witnessed the deaths.

Two of the men are believed to be Arshad and Tariq Khan - known as Big Khan and Little Khan around the leafy suburb, which welcomes visitors with a sign declaring itself the Cradle of Leadership.

The two brothers, described as courteous and kind, bought milk, biscuits, soap, soft drinks, toffees and the occasional single Gold Flake cigarette, which they would smoke at the corner shop - perhaps to avoid the disapproval of a more devout householder.

They were known to have gifted a few rabbits to a family around the corner from their property and were even said by one shopkeeper to have been "of better character than the local people".

It has since been alleged that Arshad, the owner of the house, was bin Laden's most trusted courier, a Kuwaiti-born Pakistani also known as Abu Ahmed al-Kuwaiti.

Yet sympathy is firmly on their side. Around town, gossip is fast taking hold that the US operation also killed women and children, a dangerous rumour that the most vociferous White House denials seem powerless to dispel.

In Pakistan, a nation of smoke, mirrors and conspiracy theories, seeing is believing and, for all US President Barack Obama's distaste for trophyism, local people want proof.

A world away, in Washington, US intelligence officials are doing their level best to satisfy that demand.

Yesterday, they revealed CIA officers had kept the compound under surveillance for months.

Apparently using telephoto lenses behind mirrored windows, as well as sensitive eavesdropping equipment from a rented house nearby, they claim to have taken pictures of a tall man believed to have been bin Laden walking the courtyard with such regularity they nicknamed him "the pacer".

In Pakistan, the information will almost certainly trigger a witch-hunt for the spy house and any co-conspirators.

Already there is tension and signs of a damaging backlash.

On a wall a few hundred metres from the compound, the word Usama has been sprawled in white paint. Someone has come later and tried to block it out with brown paint. They didn't succeed.

It was all the police needed yesterday to once again close off the suburb after a warning from the army that police either deal with the foreigners, or they would.

Local Bilal Town police chief Nazir Ahmed Khan, a small, neat man with a luscious moustache and dark aviator sunnies, says the area will be blocked off for "an unlimited time".

He seems relaxed, enjoying his new responsibility, and tells The Weekend Australian that as the chief security officer: "I have the courage to face the situation. I am bound to not give in to anyone".

But when asked how he responded at 12.45am on Monday when he heard the first blast and gunfire in his suburb, his face darkens. "I never rushed to the spot," he says. "It is very dangerous to rush. We always wait for the leaders of the situation."

As Pakistani authorities struggle to explain their recalcitrance, preliminary analysis of data recovered from the house is reshaping the prevailing wisdom that Osama bin Laden was essentially a retired global terrorist leader.

Information from computer hard drives seized from his compound suggests he was still an active commander, in contact with senior al-Qa'ida figures and identifying potential targets.

Yet residents here are more concerned about terrorism in their own backyards than half a world away in the privileged West.

People here embrace the garrison nature of their town - which hosts two regiments and a military academy - and the peace and order that come with it.

But Abbottabad's assistant police superintendent, Mohammed Rafique, now fears the peace and security that have made Abbottabad such a haven may have been sacrificed.

"I am very upset that he was found in Abbottabad," he says.

Despite all the grief bin Laden has brought to this town, in Friday prayers yesterday the message was less about sin and consequence, as it was indignation at the US's assumption that it can breach Pakistani sovereignty.

A few hours before Mehboob Rehman Qureshi delivered his sermon at the town's largest Ilyasi mosque, he told The Weekend Australian his message would be one of sovereign sanctity.

"Why should America come here without permission?" he said.

"If I want to come to your home I must first knock on the door."