Jihadi studies as trivia
Apr 11th, 2008 by MESH
From Raymond Ibrahim
A new article by Thomas Hegghammer in the Times Literary Supplement, entitled “Jihadi studies: the obstacles to understanding radical Islam and the opportunities to know it better,” lives up to its title—not so much by delineating what these obstacles are, but rather by being representative of them. Regrettably, the author evokes the same old mantras prevalent in modern academia’s study of jihad and jihadists.
First, even though one may suppose that the article at the very least would touch upon ideology, doctrine, or theology—after all, the words “jihad” and “radical Islam” are in the title—it all but ignores these concepts.
Instead, it focuses on “people”—the jihadists themselves. Hegghammer assures us that, with the availability of new primary sources, our knowledge of what makes a jihadist tick is destined to improve. He would like us to better appreciate “the importance of mundane and non-ideological factors in individual recruitment to jihadist activity.” He then explains the great need to learn the biographies of men like Osama bin Laden.
But what do we learn from this approach? Much ink is spent over biographical trivia about bin Laden—”Was Bin Laden really a playboy in 1970s Beirut, and a CIA stooge in 1980s Afghanistan? Did he really attend arsenal matches in London and sex orgies in Morocco in the 1990s?”—without once ever explaining the significance of such gossipy queries. After positing these questions, Hegghammer is quick to inform us that, “Just for the record, Bin Laden was never a playboy in Beirut; he was a shy and pious young man. He attended no arsenal matches or sex orgies.” Again, as if any of this trivia—pro or con—has anything to do with jihad and radical Islam. While this “people-first” approach is entertaining, it is unclear how, practically speaking, a “nuanced portrait of bin Laden” is supposed to help combat him.
The author next moves to Messages to the World, a compilation of 24 statements attributed to bin Laden. Based on this collection, Hegghammer assures the reader that “those who expect religious ranting will be surprised. There are no complex theological arguments.”
Again, Hegghammer errs by making bin Laden the spokesman for jihad. Had he only turned to the writings of Ayman Zawahiri—long known for being the ideologue of Al Qaeda—which are available in The Al Qaeda Reader, he would have encountered over two hundred pages of treatises dealing with the subjects of jihad, martyrdom (suicide-bombings), and even the legality of killing women and children, and fellow Muslims, during the jihad, the need to always bear enmity for all non-Muslims, and various doctrines of deception (e.g., taqiyya)—all as articulated through usul al-fiqh, or Islam’s “roots of jurisprudence.”
Declarations and communiqués directed by Al Qaeda at fellow jihadists are much more valuable—in that they are much more revealing—than the communiqués directed at the United States. The former are directed at fellow Muslims and thus couched in familiar Islamic terms and concepts; the latter, intentionally articulated through a Western epistemology—an epistemology that is utterly at odds with radical Islam.
Consider the disparity of the following two quotes, both by bin Laden, one directed to Americans, the other to Muslims. To Americans, he says: “Reciprocal treatment is part of justice; he who initiates the aggression is the unjust one.” However, in an obscure essay entitled “Moderate Islam is a Prostration to the West,” directed at fellow Muslims—his Saudi kinsmen, to be specific—bin Laden celebrates his understanding of Islam’s aggressive nature:
[O]ur talks with the infidel West and our conflict with them ultimately revolve around one issue, and it is: Does Islam, or does it not, force people by the power of the sword to submit to its authority corporeally if not spiritually? Yes. There are only three choices in Islam: either willing submission [i.e., conversion]; or payment of the jizya [poll-tax paid by non-Muslims], thereby bodily, though not spiritual, submission to the authority of Islam; or the sword—for it is not right to let him [an infidel] live. The matter is summed up for every person alive: either submit, or live under the suzerainty of Islam, or die…. Such, then, is the basis of the relationship between the infidel and the Muslim. Battle, animosity, and hatred—directed from the Muslim to the infidel—is the foundation of our religion. (The Al Qaeda Reader, p. 42.)
Hegghammer goes on to tackle the notion that theology or ideology could ever inspire a would-be Muslim suicide bomber. He concludes they could not. Instead, he is somewhat sympathetic to one particular study that finds “that the root cause of suicide terrorism is not religion, but foreign occupation.” But Hegghammer is more inclined to believe that “It is probably not occupation, but nationalism, that generates suicide terrorism.”
The problem with the territory theory is the fact that Arab Christians—whether in Palestine or Iraq—have yet to blow themselves up during a suicide attack against Israel or U.S. forces in Iraq. As for Hegghammer’s own notion that nationalism generates suicide terrorism, Arab Christians have traditionally been at the fore of the Arab nationalist movement. According to his theory, then, one would logically expect them at the van of martyrdom operations, which they are not. Indeed, Christian and Muslim Arabs are identical: they look the same, live in the same place, speak the same language, and consider themselves “Arabs.” The only thing that differentiates them is religion. So, if all things—minus religion—are equal, is it not only logical to conclude that it is religion, or “ideology,” that is responsible for the suicide-bomber, as that is the only variable that Christian and Muslim Arabs do not share?
Early in his essay, Hegghammer indicates that one of the failures of Middle East scholars has been their “tendency to rely on simple grievance-based explanations of terrorism.” Yet his entire essay is a testimony to this model. He constantly tries to humanize bin Laden. He insists that doctrine or ideology has nothing to do with terrorism. And finally, in his conclusion, he, like many a Middle Eastern scholar before him, stresses only the need for us to comprehend our own shortcomings, before we condemn the terrorists—all in the platitudinous language we have come to expect (emphases added):
But the most important reason [for our lack of understanding “jihadism”] is no doubt that the emotional outrage at al-Qaeda’s violence has prevented us from seeing clearly. Societies touched by terrorism are always the least well placed to understand their enemies. It is only when we see the jihadists not as agents of evil or religious fanatics, but as humans, that we stand a chance of understanding them.
If this isn’t ultimately a “simple grievance-based explanation of terrorism,” what is?
Comments are limited to MESH members and invitees,
and include a response by Thomas Hegghammer.
2 Responses to “Jihadi studies as trivia”
Raymond Ibrahim is disappointed with my review essay because it “evokes the same old mantras prevalent in modern academia’s study of jihad and jihadists.” It is unclear to me what exactly these mantras are, but from what I can tell, Ibrahim raises five main points.
First is that the review allegedly ignores ideology and doctrine. Well, the essay may not be entirely devoted to Al Qaeda’s declarations, but to say that I ignore ideology is simply not true. One of the five main books reviewed is Messages to the World; I highlight a main theme in bin Laden’s statements (Palestine); I speak of the ideological differences between socio-revolutionary Islamists, classical jihadists and global jihadists, and I offer an interpretation of Al Qaeda’s ideology as extreme pan-Islamic nationalism. All this is analysis of ideology; it is just emphasizing its political as opposed to its theological dimension. Ideology is not the same as theology, and it is perfectly possible to analyze Islamist ideology without using Arabic theological terms in every sentence.
Ibrahim’s second point is that the utility of studying individuals is overrated and that I focus too much on bin Laden trivia. Of course the gossipy queries are insignificant; I think most readers apart from Ibrahim understand that the rhetorical questions were tongue and cheek. Instead of attacking me, Ibrahim should address those (like Adam Robertson, Yonah Alexander or Kola Boof) who have probably made more money than I ever will by spreading false bin Laden trivia in their books. If Ibrahim thinks bin Laden is not worth studying, that is fair enough, but I would strongly disagree. Bin Laden is the single most influential individual in the global jihadist movement, and the thorough historiography of writers like Peter Bergen and Lawrence Wright has helped the war on terror.
Third is my alleged failure to mention the Qaeda texts that do contain religious ranting. My point is simply that bin Laden’s discourse is more political and less irrational than the average Western reader thinks. Of course there is religious discourse in Al Qaeda’s statements, but there is also a lot of politics, including those directed at Muslim audiences.
Ibrahim’s fourth complaint concerns my partial support for Robert Pape’s theory, which I admit is a minority view. Ibrahim holds the majority view in the terrorism research community, which is that Pape has it completely wrong and that religion is driving suicide terrorism. Of course there are nationalist movements in many parts of the world that do not use suicide bombings—just like there are secular groups that do. I am interested in the observable patterns of behavior among Islamist groups, which is that Islamists involved in struggles against non-Muslims have executed many more suicide attacks than have Islamists fighting their local regimes. There is a clear and observable tendency in the empirical data which the advocates of the religion or cult hypothesis cannot explain. I am not suggesting that nationalism alone accounts for all instances of suicide bombings, but it certainly seems to increase the probability that an Islamist group will resort to such tactics.
The fifth and final criticism is that my emphasis on seeing jihadists as humans and not as fanatics constitutes a “simple grievance-based explanation of terrorism.” This is a very curious interpretation. By highlighting the role of individuals and the power of their agency, I am going against those who see jihadism as the linear expression of poverty, state repression or Western imperialism. However, this also—and I suspect this is what bothers Ibrahim—challenges the view that the behavior of jihadists is determined by religion and ideology.
Here we are at the crux of the matter. Ibrahim’s critique is motivated by a profound and honest disagreement about the role of religion and ideology in Islamist militancy. I happen to hold the view that ideology is only one of the factors that determine the timing, level and form of Islamist violence. I am also of the view that there are limits to the study of the theological dimension of Islamist ideology, and that we can better predict the behavior of militant Islamist groups by looking at the political preferences expressed in their texts.
Ibrahim seems to suggest that the study of jihadist ideology is a forgotten or underestimated line of inquiry in academia. This may have been the case five years ago, but not any longer. There now exist several edited compilations of Al Qaeda texts (Ibrahim published one in 2007; I published three others in 2003 and 2005). There is at least one academic journal devoted solely to studies of jihadist ideology, while other journals regularly feature articles on the same subject. This is not to mention the numerous blogs and websites that monitor jihadi propaganda. There is no shortage of exegeses of jihadi ideology. What we need is new ways of analyzing it.
Ibrahim’s alternative to my “mantras” seems to be that jihadists are driven by religious ideology. Fine; I don’t disagree. But what exactly does this help us explain? It does not explain chronological or geographical variations of violence; nor relative differences in popularity between radical ideologies; nor differential recruitment; nor the timing of key ideological permutations. The “yes-or-no” debate over whether or not religious ideology causes Islamist violence is in my view futile and intensely boring. I am interested in understanding why Islamists use violence when, where and in the way they do. In this quest, Raymond Ibrahim’s mantra does not get me very far.
Thomas Hegghammer is a postdoctoral research associate at Princeton University.
I would like to weigh in on two aspects of the important and interesting exchange between Raymond Ibrahim and Thomas Hegghammer: Robert Pape’s occupation thesis and the importance of ideology for the study of terrorism.
I have stated my disagreement with Robert Pape’s central thesis in a long review article published in late 2006 (here). Although I do not argue in this article that Pape has it completely wrong, I think his thesis that suicide terrorism is mainly a response to foreign occupation is less valid for suicide attacks by Salafi-Jihadist groups—the predominant pattern of suicide attacks today—than it is for the suicide attacks of the 1980s and 1990s. It may be true that Islamists fighting ‘non-Muslims’ have executed many more suicide attacks, but I would take issue with Hegghammer’s belief that there is a clear and observable tendency in that regard. I believe that the tendency is actually pointing in the other direction. Increasingly, suicide attacks occur in countries—and against regimes—that are Muslim, such as Algeria, Iraq, Pakistan, or Afghanistan. Yes, many of the attacks in these countries are targeted at foreigners, but a growing number target Muslims who are regarded as ‘apostates’—with the attack against Benazir Bhutto being the most prominent example.
As to the relationship between ideology and terrorism, I share Raymond Ibrahim’s sense that the discussion of the role of ideology in the emergence of terrorism is extremely important. But Thomas Hegghammer asks a legitimate question nevertheless: does it matter? My personal take is that ideology does matter, but we should not be under the impression that it explains everything.
I have examined the interplay between ideology and suicide attacks in my dissertation (forthcoming as a book in September 2008) by looking at the ideological orientation of over forty groups that conducted nearly 1,270 suicide attacks between 1981 and April 2007. In my study, I found that unequivocally, Salafi-Jihadist groups have assumed the leadership among groups that employ this modus operandi in a number of respects, including in terms of numbers of organizations, numbers of attacks, and even in the average and overall lethality of suicide missions. In 1997, for example, not a single Salafi-Jihadist group perpetrated a suicide attack. In 1998, 17 percent of groups that conducted these attacks adhered to Salafi-Jihadist ideology, followed by 25 percent in 1999 and 67 percent in 2000. In 2006 and 2007, that percentage peaked at 70 percent and 67 percent, respectively. Moreover, suicide attacks by Salafi-Jihadist groups carried a much higher lethality than attacks by non-Salafi-Jihadist groups. Although Salafi-Jihadist groups are responsible for only 15 percent of attacks in the time frame of 1981 to April 2007, I found that they were responsible for at least a third (34 percent) of all fatalities caused by suicide attacks in that period.
So what about the ‘so what’ question Hegghammer asks? Although I tend to disagree with Hegghammer that further inquiry into the role of ideology is futile, I share his judgment that there are limits as to what ideology helps us explain. Most importantly, I found no evidence that ideology is ‘the cause’ of suicide attacks per se. The causes of suicide attacks are complex, and must be found in the interplay of personal motivations, strategic and tactical objectives of the sponsoring groups, as well as the larger societal and structural factors affecting the bomber and the group. In addition, ideology is acquired by individuals for reasons having to do with emotions and beliefs—a topic that is highly complex, but well deserving of more scholarly attention.
If ideology is not ‘the cause’ of suicide attacks per se, then what is its role? I believe that ideology plays an important role in that it helps reduce the suicide attacker’s reservations to perpetrate the act of killing and dying. Specifically, ideology fills three roles:
• First, it helps the suicide bomber justify the act by articulating why this act is called for, and why every ‘true’ Muslim must participate in it. The ideology describes—and statements by suicide bombers reflect—the need to defend Islam from attack as an individual duty for each and every Muslim; the participation in jihad as the ultimate proof of one’s worthiness as a Muslim; and the failure to participate in jihad as an act of heresy.
• Second, Salafi-Jihadist ideology shapes the mental framework of the suicide attacker by constantly repeating the West’s real or perceived infractions against Islam. These infractions appear particularly grave to some Muslims because Salafi-Jihadists tend to employ conspiracy theories to further incite fear and hatred of the West.
• Third, it helps the suicide attacker to morally disengage himself from his act and from the victim. Ideology helps create a dichotomy of good-versus-evil (‘true’ Muslims on one hand vs. kuffar on the other), and it dehumanizes the enemy by describing him as defiled, degenerate, bereft of any sense of decency, unjust, and cruel.
Assaf Moghadam is a member of MESH.