Radical Islam: Threats and Opportunities

Sara Silvestri is a lecturer at City University London and a research associate of Cambridge University.

 

 

The series of terrorist attacks carried out across the globe over the past two decades by individuals and groups claiming legitimacy for their actions in the name of Islam, and especially the escalation of violence that the world has witnessed since 11 September 2001, are for many the burning evidence that there is a “Muslim conspiracy” out there to undermine and conquer the West—that there is something “inherently wrong”, backward and violent with the religion of Islam and with Muslim believers and culture.

 

This particular perception of Islam as a source of violent antagonism to the West also partly builds upon an often incomplete and imperfect awareness of the discourses of certain Muslim intellectuals who initiated faith-based reform movements in the Muslim world towards the end of Ottoman rule and during the process of decolonisation.

 

However, even among those who do not espouse these negative views of Islam, there is increasing concern about the phenomenon of radicalisation, i.e., the process by which youths are attracted to a form of political violence that draws on Islamic symbolism and concepts. Fighting “violent radicalisation” was identified as a priority by the European Union in 2005 following the London bombings of July that year. Warning that “[i]n the recent past, terrorist groups, abusively claiming their legitimacy in the name of Islam, have been known to operate both within and outside Europe”, it emphasised the need to implement a series of preventive measures. It distinguished “violent” from other forms of radicalisation, acknowledging that this phenomenon can occur within and outside Islamic circles and is often the product of socio-political factors, as well as of psychological mechanisms.¹

 

Preventing and studying radicalisation has now become not only a European but also a global priority, giving rise to a wealth of publications, strategic analyses, media programmes, and conferences on the topics of Islam in Europe, terrorism, and radicalisation. Strangely enough, however, despite all this debate, many commentators and public opinion in general seem to omit two crucial considerations from the picture: (1) it is Muslim individuals who emerge as the most harmed by the recent course of events; (2) the use and misuse of Islam for radical, violence-oriented, political purposes may have stimulated, in reaction, the beginnings of a genuine revival of Islam as a peaceful force to counter this violence. 

Misconceptions 

There are also conceptual and terminological errors in the debate on these topics which risk misplacing the focus of the analysis and jeopardising the development of effective solutions to the current crisis. Many observers tend to argue as if there were one prescriptive “Muslim mindset” and “Muslim form of government”. In addition, there is an inflated use of the term “Salafism” as a synonym for “jihadism” and “terrorism” which is neglectful of the nuances and multiple interpretations of the term in the evolution of various currents of Islamic political thought.

 

Salafism is often discussed as if it were a clearly defined violent and radical ideology and set of precepts, whereas in fact it is a recurrent topos in the history of Islam, a broad approach that emphasises the exemplary life and religiosity of the “ancestors” or “predecessors” (in Arabic, Salaf), the companions of the Prophet. So, the importance of the Salaf and of the return to the original sources of the faith has inspired different generations of Muslims and has been interpreted in different ways: from strict, conservative adherence to tradition, resulting in a withdrawal from politics and society; to a literalist reading of the scriptures and the revival of outward observances (something typical of Wahhabism); to a spiritual and intellectual renewal of the faith that translates into moral and social reform of the present driven by the example of the past (common among the Muslim Brothers); to a tradition-inspired radical political revolution that theorises the use of violence as a method of achieving its goals (the Islamic Jihad group probably falls into this category). What is also important to remember is that Salafism is a direct product of the encounter of Muslim cultures with modernity; hence, Salafism can have explicit anti-Western tendencies but is not essentially irrational or anti-modern.

 

Although security services have often associated Salafism with conservatism, obscurantism, and violence (partly because of the appropriation of the label by extremist groups, including al-Qaeda), the academic community tends to emphasise the notion of moral and political reform that was inherent in the Muslim thinker Mohammad Abduh’s rediscovery of the Salaf, starting in Egypt in the second half of the nineteenth century.

 

The West has come to know and to refer to Salafism mainly in its “classical”, literalist version of Wahhabism, or in its violent forms that combine the desire to purge society of injustice and corruption with the ideologies of the “smaller jihad” (the physical struggle against infidels, the enemies of Islam) and of takfir (the rejection of corrupt society and the “excommunication” of Muslims who are perceived as infidels). Consequently, it is this latter “hybrid” and vicious version of Salafism that has come to dominate contemporary discussions of Islam, Islamism and terrorism—quite distinct phenomena that are nevertheless frequently, sometimes deliberately, confused. 

Islamism 

Islamism—also called “political Islam”—is a “political theology”, i.e., an “analysis and criticism of political arrangements … from the perspective … of God’s ways with the world”.² It could also be defined as an “interpretation and use of religion for political purposes”; in any case, Islamism is both different from and connected to Islam as a religion. The main difference is that Islamism is a political ideology and Islam is a religion. Therefore, it can be argued that the prime concern of the former is this earthly life, whereas the latter is focused on the “transcendent”. However, any spiritual, transcendent experience would be meaningless unless it were translated into actions, and interactions with other human beings, in the “immanent”. So, to a certain extent, all theologies are “a critical reflection on the political”.³ Critics of Islam would point out, though, that this particular faith, differently from others, is intrinsically a political religion in that it regards the political (i.e., public) realm as being fundamentally connected to the religious (i.e., private) one. Yet, how far can a clear-cut distinction be identified in Christian doctrine and practice between what belongs to God and what belongs to Caesar? Before making sweeping comparisons of Islam with other major faiths in the West, we should remember that the association of religion with the private sphere is more a historical construct of Western thought and of the secularisation process than a direct outcome of Christian teaching.

 

Students of political Islam normally locate the origin of Islamism in specific movements that spread from North Africa and Asia at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and that advocated socio-political reform, condemned corruption and called for social justice. “Islamism borrows its driving reasons, symbols, and language from Islam in order to theorise a variety of degrees and methods of political mobilization and to bring about Islamisation and social change.”⁴ Some observers of political Islam, including me, would even go so far as to consider Islamist movements as primarily political rather than religious. Under this lens, the discourse of “Islamisation” should be seen as part of the political rhetoric of a social group rather than as a measure of its adherence to religious values and practices.

 

Shifting the focus from the religious to the political may help avoid dangerous generalisations about Muslims and the phenomenon of political violence by certain radical Islamist movements. Yet, two problems remain to be faced by Muslims and non-Muslims alike. The first is the issue of “subversion” posed by certain Islamist networks that explicitly reject and challenge Western political systems with an alternative (divine) source of authority and legitimacy. Al-Qaeda is definitely one such network, but earlier, Sayyid Qutb (1906–66) and Mawlana Mawdudi (1903–79) elaborated on the notions of the Islamic state (to be under the supreme, absolute sovereignty of God) and of jihad (struggle, war) as a means of achieving it. Mawdudi, in order to attain this goal, accepted the political compromise of allowing Muslims to operate within Western or Western-like political systems. But Qutb took a much more radical, revolutionary line that influenced future generations of Islamists.

 

Qutb provided both a terminology, such as jahiliyah (barbarity, ignorance of Islam) and takfir (“excommunication” of kafir—impious—Muslims), and a symbolism for future Islamist networks, including current terrorist ones. From the 1970s onwards, these ideas were further radicalised, first in Egypt, then in Algeria and Afghanistan, through the Tanzim al-Jihad movement (which argued the duty to wage holy war against impious rulers) and through the hybridisation of this militant ideology with conservative Deobandi practices and traditions. This hybridisation gave birth to what is known as Salafi-Jihadism, which urges jihad against impious Muslim and non-Muslim “usurpers” in order to recover lost Islamic territories and identity.

 

The weight of the potentially destabilising message at the heart of other dissident movements should also be noted, even if they are currently not violent. The British branch of Hizb ut-Tahrir (the Islamic Party of Liberation), for instance, despite now following a strategy of selective compliance with the “discourse” and “register” of Western political language, rejects any involvement with mainstream Western democratic politics because it regards these as illegitimate. In line with its over fifty-year-old core ideology, Hizb ut-Tahrir advocates the purification and transformation of a corrupt society through the establishment of an Islamic caliphate (or khilafat, as is it spelt in its literature). This is a potentially threatening message to Western notions of political authority and to many existing political systems and institutions. However, whereas Hizb ut-Tahrir in Indonesia constitutes a palpable challenge to the country’s political system, the combativeness of its counterpart in Britain appears to lie predominantly in its rhetoric. Hizb ut-Tahrir seems to have developed no clear programme as to how to implement shari’a (Islamic law) and organise the Islamic government it calls for. (According to Olivier Roy, this is also the inherent limitation of al-Qaeda—its lack of a plan for the world the day after the attacks of 11 September 2001.)⁵

 

The second problem arising from the common equating of Islam with Islamism and terrorism is the question of violence in the history of Islam. Religion has been exploited for violent purposes on many occasions and in many different cultures. So, on the one hand, one could halt the discussion here by arguing that the violence perpetrated by certain Muslim individuals is a human action that has distorted the true spirit of Islam, and as such is comparable to the brutalities carried out by European societies in the name of Christianity—for example, during the crusades. However, one aspect of the relationship of Islam to violence appears qualitatively distinct among world religions in that violent episodes are connected with the very origins of Islam, and are inscribed in the life of its founder, Mohammad. The Prophet was not solely a great religious leader, he was also a military commander, and participated in nineteen battles, including against Jewish tribes. This historical fact causes non-Muslims to view Islam with suspicion; it also increasingly poses a difficulty for the Muslim faithful, who today are being pressed to confront the question of whether Islam justifies violence.

 

It is enormously difficult for Muslims to criticise the actions of the Prophet, primarily because he is regarded as a blessed special individual. Indeed, the exemplary life of Mohammad, as told in the sunna and summed up in the hadith, constitutes an important source of the message of Islam. One potentially satisfactory answer that some practising Muslims would provide to the question of historical violence in Islam is that Mohammad was not a god or the Son of God (although whether he was infallible has long been an issue of contention among Muslims; God showed him the right peaceful path). Since the Prophet was a human among mortal, imperfect humans, in certain situations he had no option but to combat and resist, although this was not the ideal option to take. Another point often emphasised by Muslim believers and scholars, in order to make a clear-cut distinction between their own faith and the ideology of those who commit violence in the name of Islam, is that Mohammad’s use of force was essentially “responsive”, and that force has never been a “normative” feature of Islam. 

European Fears 

Monolithic approaches to Islam or to European identity ignore the cross-fertilisation between ethnicities, cultures and religions recurrent in human history, the fact that people have always moved across the globe, that social and political structures are perpetually undergoing change, and that, more often than not, radical and positive transformations have happened because of or during the process of overcoming a difficulty or a threat.

 

Putting all Muslims into one basket is as absurd as regarding all the Christian inhabitants of the European Union as culturally and politically homogeneous. Although, demographically, most Europeans are of Christian origin or background and share a loose sense of identity connected to the history of Christianity, its institutions and cultural production, European countries are still profoundly different from each other in terms of patterns of socialisation, eating habits, family values, traditions of hospitality, and attitudes towards politics and religion. On any of these matters it is possible to find more similarities between, say, a Greek, an Italian, a Moroccan, and a Turk, than between an Italian and a Briton; in other areas, it is equally possible that a Dane and a Briton, or a German and a Pole, have more in common with one another than with an Italian, a Greek or a Portuguese.

 

Europe’s suspicious attitude towards Islam is symptomatic of an underlying more general schizophrenic attitude towards religion as well as of a broader identity crisis—a crisis about Europe’s own history and values, the purpose and essence of its political organisations, about the nation-state but also about the European Union, which seems to be at a standstill when Turkey is at its doorstep waiting to join the club. One aspect of this crisis is communication between generations and the loss of trust in political institutions. Therefore, when addressing the problem of the radicalisation of Europe’s Muslim youths, it should be put into perspective and observed in the light of a general problem of communication between different age groups. Besides this generational gap, there is also a lack of opportunity, of stimuli and of meaningful ideals and models for youths in Europe.

 

The issue of youth, in connection with role models, group dynamics, intergenerational understanding, and trust in political institutions, is a crucial one and is the object of much recent and ongoing research. But for present purposes, it is interesting to consider another component of the perceived “Islamic threat”—migration. Even before 11 September, the Muslims of Europe were regarded as a problem, but mainly because many were immigrants. They were looked at with suspicion because of their “different” culture and language, and because they bore the burden of all the socio-economic difficulties attendant upon economic migration and family reunion, especially among low-skilled labourers.

 

For migrants, shared cultural and religious traditions and the existence of kinship networks enable the creation of support groups and provide simple opportunities to socialise. These dynamics can generate tensions with the indigenous population because the impression is given that migrants are deliberately isolating themselves from the receiving society and do not wish to integrate into it. Clearly, instances of violence by immigrants against indigenous Europeans, such as the November 2004 murder in Amsterdam of the Dutch film director Theo van Gogh by a man of Moroccan origin, or the killing of an Italian woman in Rome by a Romanian immigrant squatter in October 2007, do not help the plight and public perception of immigrants. Instead, they strengthen the stereotype of “bogus, illegal immigrants” who “do not deserve” the benefits of the society that has generously received them.

 

For its part, Western society is not totally blameless for these tensions. Societies in general do not adjust easily to immigration, even if it is badly needed for economic and demographic reasons, as is the case in present-day Europe. But this is true not only of Europe: immigrants are “the other” in every age and part of the world, from Africa, to India, to Japan. There are at least three reasons for hostility among the majority population towards immigrants. The first is a matter of mentality, of antipathy to and alienation from whatever is “different” and new; this can probably be fought through education and the increase of inter-personal contacts.

 

The second reason derives from the sometimes painful but necessary adjustments that the receiving country must make to its infrastructure and laws in order to accommodate new people; these adjustments, which involve the sharing of spaces and resources, are often resented by the host population.

 

The third is a desire to protect the social and political norms upon which a country is founded and organised. Non-Muslims widely regard the Islamic idea of the “common good” (maslah) as being markedly different from that which has emerged in the West. The tribal logic of the Taliban in Afghanistan and the transnational dimension of al-Qaeda, both working outside—and explicitly challenging—the established concepts of “state authority” and of the “international community”, could be held responsible for this perception of Islam as the source of a moral and political worldview clearly antithetical to the Western one. The discourse and the violence of these groups have thus obfuscated the centrality of political and moral reform and social justice to the thinking of earlier Islamist movements, which in this respect is not that far removed from contemporary discussions of the ethics of international politics.

 

Another source of suspicion towards Islam is the notion of the umma, the global community of Muslim believers. Despite their doctrinal, geographical, ethnic and national fragmentation, Muslims worldwide identify with the umma, and share the theological viewpoint that being a Muslim is an all-encompassing life experience. The immediate corollaries are that, at least in abstract terms, “religion” (din, to be differentiated from iman, “faith”) cannot be divorced from politics (dawla) and that the only true sovereignty and law are those of God.

 

However, it would be simplistic and incorrect to jump from this to the conclusion that there is a “Muslim form of government” and that Islam is incompatible with the secular concept of the separation of church and state that prevails in the West. In fact, Muslim scholars and thinkers have put forward differing, even opposed, views concerning how beliefs about din and dawla should be translated into practice, as noted above. Although the “universal” quality of the Islamic religious experience has often been presented as a subversive element, challenging the Western socio-political status quo, the meaning of umma is in fact not dissimilar to that of “catholic” (in its original Greek sense), a notion which plays a central role in the Christian tradition. So, it can be argued that the Islamic interconnectedness of din and dawla constitutes less of an exception than normally supposed.

 

However, during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the ideology of pan-Arabism, together with Islamist political theologies, deliberately stressed the importance of the umma and of the transnational and supernatural character of political action based on Islamic values and precepts in order to challenge and liberate Muslims from what was deemed to be Western oppression. This contributed to a general fear in Europe and the West that Islam jeopardises allegiance to the state and the functioning of the Westphalian world order. Islamist activists and transnational terrorist networks whose ambition is to cleanse society of corruption and establish a God-fearing Islamic polity, the caliphate, under shari’a law, obviously reinforce this fear. 

Coming to Terms 

Here, I do not wish to add to the extensive literature on the historical perception and construction of Islam and Muslims as Europe’s exotic and potentially dangerous “other”—important though that issue undoubtedly is. Rather than focusing on a “clash of values” or a clash of “sources of political legitimacy” (normally summarised in the received notion that in Islam politics and religion are “one” single thing), it is crucial to concentrate on the factual and perceived shifting place of religion and of secularism in the shared political imagery of, and in the context of socio-political transformations occurring in, the European Union and the Muslim world. One should bear in mind that Muslims—of all walks of life, social and educational background, national and religious traditions—inhabit both places.

 

The challenge “of” and “for” Islam in Europe, therefore, coincides with the problem of “finding a place” for this religion. This is closely linked to three key issues: (1) the possibility of reconsidering spirituality and religion as sources of moral value in a secularised society and the consequent requestioning and repositioning of the concept of secularism; (2) the need to readjust the legal framework that regulates church–state relations, freedom of religion and the rights of minorities in Europe; and (3) the need to break the association of Islam with terrorism by breaking the terrorists’ appropriation of Islam.

 

This last imperative is in turn dependent upon three contingencies: (1) an effective fight against terrorism that does not alienate individuals in attempting to protect their freedoms and that derives its authority from the trust of the population; (2) a change in the mentality of non-Muslims who adhere to—and fear—a stereotypical vision of Islam; and (3), last but not least, a change in the rhetoric and discourse of Muslim individuals and groups.

 

Muslims born in and currently living in Europe might provoke hostility among their non-Muslim neighbours and at the same time provide extremist Islamist groups with “grievances” that “legitimise” violence by overemphasising cases of discrimination and by adopting an attitude of victimisation. Given events such as the international crisis that erupted in 2006 following the publication in Denmark the previous year of cartoons of the Prophet Mohammad, and the ongoing anti-Western rhetoric of certain Muslim countries and al-Qaeda‑linked movements, many non-Muslim observers have discerned a slippery slope between the “violence of rhetoric” and the “violence of action” that can emerge from Muslim communities both in the West and in the Islamic world. Going down the path of hostile generalisations and stereotypes is dangerous: for the interests of individuals, states and societies, for global security, and for the shared human ideal of living in peace.

 

Research (interviews and focus groups, post–11 September and also in the aftermath of the July 2005 bombings of the London transport system) conducted by the author of this paper and by some of her students clearly shows that Muslims in Europe—especially the younger generations, and especially in Britain—are squeezed between two forms of pressure and violence: the physical and rhetorical violence of the terrorists and the reactive force of national and international counter-terrorism strategies.

 

But besides the challenge of resisting the violent message of radical preachers and the pressure of groups, Muslim youths (and European youths in general) are facing a bigger challenge, that of resisting exclusivist, all-encompassing and pre-packaged answers to life which are often hidden in appealing forms of religiosity. They need to be able to live their life, to “own” their faith by choosing it, by exploring it, by knowing why and how it can give rise to certain moral or political choices. Our youths should be cautious of adhering to a group or an ideology simply because there is pressure to follow certain outward practices and rituals in order to “belong” to the community. Ongoing programmes by non-governmental organisations and European states to promote “leadership skills” among youths should therefore be welcomed, although the problem remains of how to reach the silent majority of youths who lack any obvious aptitude for leadership, who care little or nothing for “high politics”, and yet who are going to form the bulk of the next generation.

 

Being nearer to home, the Islamist terrorist attacks in Madrid (2004) and in London (2005) touched the European population much more directly than those of 11 September 2001. They materialised long-nurtured suspicions and fears about the “violent facet” of Islam. Moreover, by misappropriating Islamic symbols the terrorists have forfeited the possibility that European society might accept Islam unconditionally.

 

Initially, the Madrid and London attacks paralysed the voice and activities of European Muslims (some went silent, others were in denial). However, these dreadful events now show signs of producing a most unexpected and potentially promising outcome. Some Muslims, pushed by a variety of reasons, have since mobilised to assert the peaceful, liberal, and moderate voice of Islam. Often, this has occurred in the context of—as a response to—the deployment by European governments of preventive counter-radicalisation and immigrant-integration strategies (which tend to be security-driven and to “domesticate” religion, thus coming with their own drawbacks).

 

However, overall, what is interesting to note is (1) the resilience against terrorism both of Muslim individuals and European society; (2) the willingness of European states and institutions, during an “emergency” situation, finally to look into the needs and claims of Europe’s Muslims and address wider social problems about education and opportunities for Muslim youths and deprived communities; (3) the emergence of unprecedented pressure, both from outside and, most importantly, from within Europe’s Muslim communities, to question and redefine issues of authority, authenticity and legitimacy regarding Islamic scholarship and leadership.

 

The immediate objective of much of this might be to stem violent radicalisation by rebuilding social cohesion and trust in public institutions. But it can also open the path to a long-term accommodation of Islam in European society. Moreover, for those who have vehemently dissociated themselves from the violence of the radical Islamists (arguing that their deeds and propaganda are an aberration of Islam, the product of a specific cultural and historical context, whereas the true Islam is about peace and love), the door is now open to demonstrate that Muslims in the twenty-first century can develop opposite—but equally powerful “radical”—discourses and initiatives that benefit the world at large.

 

 

Endnotes

 

 

1. European Commission, “Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament and the Council Concerning Terrorist Recruitment: Addressing the Factors Contributing to Violent Radicalisation”, COM(2005)313, Brussels, 21 September 2005.

 

2. William T. Cavanaugh and Peter Scott, eds., The Blackwell Companion to Political Theology (Malden and Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), p. 2.

 

3. Ibid., p. 3.

 

4. Sara Silvestri, “Does Islam Challenge European Identity?”, in The Religious Roots of Contemporary European Identity, ed. Lucia Faltin and Melanie Wright (London and New York: Continuum, 2007), p. 17.

 

5. See Olivier Roy, Globalized Islam: The Search for a New Ummah (London: Hurst, 2004).