Arun Kundnani’s survey of the “war on terror” and post- 9/11 security politics, The Muslims Are Coming!, outlines the two narratives that are used to explain the roots of modern jihad.
The first, which he calls “culturalist” is the idea that there is something amiss in Islam itself. The second, “reformist”, divided Muslims neatly into “moderates” and “extremists” – depending on how closely what they said tallied with what the West wanted them to say.
Both approaches, which are still used in government and in public discourse, seek to locate the essence of the swamp from which violent jihad springs.
But there is another part that is rarely discussed: politics. Without an understanding and an explanation of the politics that motivate jihadis, it is impossible to counter their narrative.
And yet, as Kundnani’s book explains, western governments, particularly the US and the UK, detest any discussion of foreign policy when discussing the causes of terrorism. Such discussion is not merely shut down in official circles but is criminalised in wider society.
This, despite clear evidence that politics plays not merely a role in terrorism but an overwhelmingly important one. Without allowing the political space for criticism of politics and foreign policy, the West will always cede the vital battleground of ideas to jihadis.
Take suicide bombing, or suicide terrorism as it is sometimes called. One of the most comprehensive studies of suicide terrorism around the globe – from Sri Lanka, to the Middle East, to the Caucasus – by the political scientist Robert Pape concluded: “Simply put, military occupation accounts for nearly all suicide terrorism around the world since 1980.”
Politics, more than religion or culture, plays an essential part in the narrative of jihad. That does not mean that neither matters – both are essential components – but without the political background, jihad could not find the recruits that it does.
The most important part of this is the narrative. ISIL, like Al Qaeda, like all such militant groups, has a political ideology and that ideology is rooted in a narrative, a version of history that they tell themselves and their supporters. It is this narrative that attracts recruits.
Think of this narrative as a pearl necklace, with the pearls as political events and the string as the story holding them all together in a coherent whole. For jihadists, their pearl necklace is complete: they easily string together the Iraq war, the occupation of Palestine, the war in Kashmir and many other events into a war against Muslims.
Yet western discourse has no such coherent narrative. Officially approved narratives have to leave out many pearls. There is no link whatsoever, say the officials, between, for example, western support for Israel and the war in Iraq.
Whereas right-wing theorists in the West are happy to string together events like 9/11, the Palestinian intifadas and the war in Chechnya into a whole of “Muslim extremism” they cannot abide the same being done for foreign policy critiques.
The reason isn’t hard to identify. Individually and collectively, western politicians and governments wish to avoid blame for their policies. And many of those who argued for the Iraq war are still in government or hope to be again.
The desire for the avoidance of any blame is overwhelming, even when the evidence is clear.
Tony Blair, the prime minister who took the UK into the Iraq war, has repeatedly dismissed the idea that the Iraq invasion had any link at all with attacks on Britain or its troops.
Not some link, note, or some effect, but any link at all. To Mr Blair, the Iraq war occurred in a vacuum, a black hole of policy out of which nothing at all leaked. Despite his own security services saying Iraq had an effect, despite credible analysts saying the same and despite, most damningly, the terrorists themselves saying it, he and those around him and heirs to his policy continue to deny it.
The point is not whether there is a link, or even what particular narrative is argued. The point is that without a reasonable critique of politics, it is impossible to fight the narrative of jihadis.
By refusing to countenance any criticism of foreign policy, western governments are, in effect, weakening the very people they want to empower. Anyone from within Muslim communities in the west will swiftly find their credibility diluted by having to stay within the bounds of government-sanctioned discourse.
This is a problem, because any legitimate political theory must have as part of it the criticism of foreign policy. Liberal parties have theirs, conservative parties have theirs. There is nothing inherently extreme about criticism of politics – if there were, there would be no political opposition ever.
But while western political parties have no problem with criticism of foreign policy when it comes from their supporters, they refuse to countenance it from the Muslim community. From Muslims, any criticism of foreign policy is seen to be against the national interest.
In fact, such criticisms are essential to a flourishing and increasingly self-confident political identity, which is being forged among Muslim groups in the West, with or without government involvement.
This view that Muslim political argument is suspicious has to change, although the wheels of politics mean it will take a while. But without it, the ideas of ISIL will always have more currency than the pockmarked narratives of the west. A fantasy of what western foreign policy is cannot drown the clear clarion call of ISIL’s jihad.
falyafai@thenational.ae
On Twitter: @FaisalAlYafai
