Saorsa
8th August 2008, 15:12
Syria software pirate lives by own code of ethics
Abdul-Rahman Mahaini says he hacks into programs because U.S. sanctions
block their sale in his country. But he is not above helping Western
clients.
By Borzou Daragahi
Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
July 11, 2008
DAMASCUS, SYRIA — Small, thin and pale, with a reddish beard,
Abdul-Rahman Mahaini estimates that he has stolen millions of dollars'
worth of software, hacking his way into the most complex programs in the
world.
For a few bucks, the Syrian programmer will unlock the security codes
for any program you send him via e-mail or online chat. But don't ask
him to break into your ex-girlfriend's e-mail account or steal sales
data from your competitor.
After all, the 26-year-old insists, he's an ethical pirate, a devout
Muslim who prays five times a day and breaks into software only because
his country is under U.S. sanctions and he has little choice.
Mahaini's life revolves around a software shop that he runs on Bahsa
Street, Damascus' computer market. The business is a hive of awkward,
chatty and bespectacled young men asking one another for obscure
software programs and the codes and serial numbers to unlock them. Their
voices quiet when a stranger enters.
They seem to orbit around Mahaini and his band of deputies -- a kind of
cyber-Robin Hood and his Merry Men who steal from the information haves
and redistribute the loot to the have-nots.
"If you try to deprive me," he says, "I will take it from you."
Piracy cost the U.S. software industry $48 billion in potential revenue
last year, up from $40 billion the year before, according to the
Washington-based Business Software Alliance. The Arab world, with areas
where more than 90% of the software is pirated, is a haven for hackers
such as Mahaini. They're driven by profit as well as the challenge of
outfoxing some of the biggest brands in the global software industry:
Microsoft, Adobe, Symantec, Cisco.
But there is also a political dimension to their piracy. In Syria, which
is under tight U.S. banking sanctions that make online transactions and
American software sales all but impossible, the hackers consider
themselves righteous heroes.
"I can understand how a hacker who is following the hacker ethic could
feel that way," says Richard Ford, an associate professor of computer
science at the Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne, Fla.
"There's this idea among hackers of information wanting to be free and
that you should have access to software tools."
In Syria and elsewhere in the Middle East, stealing or using pirated
software is also viewed as part of the struggle against American power
and policies seen as biased against Arabs and Islam.
"This is the way they're fighting back against American aggression,"
says Samir Hamade, a professor of information science at Kuwait
University. "They say a lot of companies are giving money to Israel, so
it's even better to use pirated software than licensed software since
you're taking money from Israel."
Still, even by his own standards, Mahaini treads ethically muddy waters.
Though he says he won't break into your ex's e-mail, for a fee he's
perfectly willing to steal software for Western businesspeople who live
in countries where licensed software is available.
He acknowledges that he once agreed to hack into an expensive piece of
manufacturing software for an Italian shoemaker in exchange for $10,000
in computer equipment.
He offers little justification for such business transactions, other
than to say that he needs the money and relishes the challenge.
"The company took two years to design this program," he boasts. "I broke
into it in three months."
Hamade says U.S. software manufacturers invite piracy by pricing their
software too high for the Middle East. In contrast, India sells academic
textbooks at discounts as high as 80% in the Middle East to avoid
copyright infringement.
Software industry executives dispute that theory.
"We have not found that there is a specific correlation between the
price of a software product and the rate of software piracy in a
market," Cori Hartje, director of Microsoft Corp.'s anti-piracy
initiative, said in an e-mail.
"Counterfeiters make fake products and sell it for whatever the market
will bear. . . . Just lowering pricing does not necessarily result in
less piracy; there is more to it than that."
Still, Mahaini has expanded his business to cash-strapped clientele in
the West. He says his latest feat was to make pirated software mimic the
original program so that it is eligible for automatic upgrades and
support, which cost American companies even more money.
He says his customers include Americans, who transfer as much as several
hundred dollars at a time to his account in exchange for bargains.
"We're not stealing," he says. "We're taking advantage of their weaknesses."
Asked how hard it would be to hack into Grand Theft Auto IV, the hottest
video game on the market, he utters a "pfft" in contempt.
"I can do it tomorrow," he says, explaining that video games employ one
of about 20 security methods, all of which he's mastered. "You're asking
for something really cheap."
How cheap to break into Grand Theft Auto IV, produced by New York-based
Take-Two Interactive Software Inc. and selling for about $60 retail?
"Two dollars," he says over a late-night coffee at a downtown Damascus cafe.
Mahaini began fiddling with computers at 14 and quickly realized that he
had a gift for code. He didn't bother with college, ending his education
with high school, but he pored over computer programming books -- also
pirated, he notes.
His teachers are the Microsoft Certified Solution Developer manuals,
which he analyzes to figure out security breaches in Microsoft software.
"You have to understand how they make the software in the first place,"
he says.
He hints of broader cyber-blackmail schemes, of hackers breaking into
websites, stealing data from a company and then selling the information
back.
Of course, that's not anything he would ever do.
"Crackers destroy," he says. "Hackers create. When you're a professional
hacker, you are a distinguished type of person. There's something sacred
in the world of hackers."
For example, hackers don't talk badly about other hackers, he says. They
don't share secrets outside their brotherhood. They have their own
technical language. In chat rooms, they say hello with the sign and
goodbye with .
"The way I know a hacker is real is by his words," he says.
He speaks of a worldwide fellowship of hackers. "In order to be a
member, you have to have achieved something," he says. "Hackers all over
the world send each other information. There are lots of websites. If
you don't give, you don't get."
He receives requests for his services, he says, from all over the world.
"We focus on business applications," he says, meaning that he offers to
unlock commercial software for tons of money.
It's not that he's unwilling to spend money on computer gear. He
declines to disclose how much he earns, but says he makes a comfortable
living. He personally prefers to use original software with convenient
upgrades and real-time support. He can afford to pay, but can't because
sanctions prevent U.S. bank transactions with Syria.
He shows off a $5,000 Sony Vaio laptop, loaded with 4 gigabytes of
memory, a 2.5-gigahertz processor, a 17-inch high-definition monitor and
a Blu-ray DVD player.
He bought it in the United Arab Emirates and paid cash, he says. The
laptop came with original Windows Vista software -- licensed.
[email protected]
Daragahi was recently on assignment in Syria.
Abdul-Rahman Mahaini says he hacks into programs because U.S. sanctions
block their sale in his country. But he is not above helping Western
clients.
By Borzou Daragahi
Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
July 11, 2008
DAMASCUS, SYRIA — Small, thin and pale, with a reddish beard,
Abdul-Rahman Mahaini estimates that he has stolen millions of dollars'
worth of software, hacking his way into the most complex programs in the
world.
For a few bucks, the Syrian programmer will unlock the security codes
for any program you send him via e-mail or online chat. But don't ask
him to break into your ex-girlfriend's e-mail account or steal sales
data from your competitor.
After all, the 26-year-old insists, he's an ethical pirate, a devout
Muslim who prays five times a day and breaks into software only because
his country is under U.S. sanctions and he has little choice.
Mahaini's life revolves around a software shop that he runs on Bahsa
Street, Damascus' computer market. The business is a hive of awkward,
chatty and bespectacled young men asking one another for obscure
software programs and the codes and serial numbers to unlock them. Their
voices quiet when a stranger enters.
They seem to orbit around Mahaini and his band of deputies -- a kind of
cyber-Robin Hood and his Merry Men who steal from the information haves
and redistribute the loot to the have-nots.
"If you try to deprive me," he says, "I will take it from you."
Piracy cost the U.S. software industry $48 billion in potential revenue
last year, up from $40 billion the year before, according to the
Washington-based Business Software Alliance. The Arab world, with areas
where more than 90% of the software is pirated, is a haven for hackers
such as Mahaini. They're driven by profit as well as the challenge of
outfoxing some of the biggest brands in the global software industry:
Microsoft, Adobe, Symantec, Cisco.
But there is also a political dimension to their piracy. In Syria, which
is under tight U.S. banking sanctions that make online transactions and
American software sales all but impossible, the hackers consider
themselves righteous heroes.
"I can understand how a hacker who is following the hacker ethic could
feel that way," says Richard Ford, an associate professor of computer
science at the Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne, Fla.
"There's this idea among hackers of information wanting to be free and
that you should have access to software tools."
In Syria and elsewhere in the Middle East, stealing or using pirated
software is also viewed as part of the struggle against American power
and policies seen as biased against Arabs and Islam.
"This is the way they're fighting back against American aggression,"
says Samir Hamade, a professor of information science at Kuwait
University. "They say a lot of companies are giving money to Israel, so
it's even better to use pirated software than licensed software since
you're taking money from Israel."
Still, even by his own standards, Mahaini treads ethically muddy waters.
Though he says he won't break into your ex's e-mail, for a fee he's
perfectly willing to steal software for Western businesspeople who live
in countries where licensed software is available.
He acknowledges that he once agreed to hack into an expensive piece of
manufacturing software for an Italian shoemaker in exchange for $10,000
in computer equipment.
He offers little justification for such business transactions, other
than to say that he needs the money and relishes the challenge.
"The company took two years to design this program," he boasts. "I broke
into it in three months."
Hamade says U.S. software manufacturers invite piracy by pricing their
software too high for the Middle East. In contrast, India sells academic
textbooks at discounts as high as 80% in the Middle East to avoid
copyright infringement.
Software industry executives dispute that theory.
"We have not found that there is a specific correlation between the
price of a software product and the rate of software piracy in a
market," Cori Hartje, director of Microsoft Corp.'s anti-piracy
initiative, said in an e-mail.
"Counterfeiters make fake products and sell it for whatever the market
will bear. . . . Just lowering pricing does not necessarily result in
less piracy; there is more to it than that."
Still, Mahaini has expanded his business to cash-strapped clientele in
the West. He says his latest feat was to make pirated software mimic the
original program so that it is eligible for automatic upgrades and
support, which cost American companies even more money.
He says his customers include Americans, who transfer as much as several
hundred dollars at a time to his account in exchange for bargains.
"We're not stealing," he says. "We're taking advantage of their weaknesses."
Asked how hard it would be to hack into Grand Theft Auto IV, the hottest
video game on the market, he utters a "pfft" in contempt.
"I can do it tomorrow," he says, explaining that video games employ one
of about 20 security methods, all of which he's mastered. "You're asking
for something really cheap."
How cheap to break into Grand Theft Auto IV, produced by New York-based
Take-Two Interactive Software Inc. and selling for about $60 retail?
"Two dollars," he says over a late-night coffee at a downtown Damascus cafe.
Mahaini began fiddling with computers at 14 and quickly realized that he
had a gift for code. He didn't bother with college, ending his education
with high school, but he pored over computer programming books -- also
pirated, he notes.
His teachers are the Microsoft Certified Solution Developer manuals,
which he analyzes to figure out security breaches in Microsoft software.
"You have to understand how they make the software in the first place,"
he says.
He hints of broader cyber-blackmail schemes, of hackers breaking into
websites, stealing data from a company and then selling the information
back.
Of course, that's not anything he would ever do.
"Crackers destroy," he says. "Hackers create. When you're a professional
hacker, you are a distinguished type of person. There's something sacred
in the world of hackers."
For example, hackers don't talk badly about other hackers, he says. They
don't share secrets outside their brotherhood. They have their own
technical language. In chat rooms, they say hello with the sign and
goodbye with .
"The way I know a hacker is real is by his words," he says.
He speaks of a worldwide fellowship of hackers. "In order to be a
member, you have to have achieved something," he says. "Hackers all over
the world send each other information. There are lots of websites. If
you don't give, you don't get."
He receives requests for his services, he says, from all over the world.
"We focus on business applications," he says, meaning that he offers to
unlock commercial software for tons of money.
It's not that he's unwilling to spend money on computer gear. He
declines to disclose how much he earns, but says he makes a comfortable
living. He personally prefers to use original software with convenient
upgrades and real-time support. He can afford to pay, but can't because
sanctions prevent U.S. bank transactions with Syria.
He shows off a $5,000 Sony Vaio laptop, loaded with 4 gigabytes of
memory, a 2.5-gigahertz processor, a 17-inch high-definition monitor and
a Blu-ray DVD player.
He bought it in the United Arab Emirates and paid cash, he says. The
laptop came with original Windows Vista software -- licensed.
[email protected]
Daragahi was recently on assignment in Syria.