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How Did the Islamic State Pick Its New Leader?

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The world’s most wanted man, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, may be dead at the paws of Conan the Hero Dog, but the ISIS crisis isn’t over.

Just three days after the killing of the so-called Islamic State’s leader, the group issued a statement announcing the name of his successor as Abu Ibrahim al-Hashemi al-Qurashi. Like his predecessor, he assumed the title of caliph, or successor to the Prophet Mohammed. In other words, he sees himself as the legitimate ruler of all Muslims—a claim that most of the world’s 1.8 billion Islamic faithful will find either deeply offensive or hilariously corny, but that the Islamic State cult’s own members are deathly serious bout.

(An unofficial English translation has been posted online by Aymenn al-Tamimi, a British-Iraqi expert on the Islamic State.)

So who is the new guy? The short answer is: we don’t know. Abu Ibrahim al-Hashemi al-Qurashi is a nom de guerre, where the last two names are intended to signal ancestry in the prophet’s family and, more importantly, membership of his Qureish tribe. Most Muslim scholars have viewed Qureish ancestry as a necessary qualification to become caliph.

There’s a decent chance that Abu Ibrahim is an Iraqi, since most of the group’s top leaders have been from Iraq and since the statement mentions that he fought the United States in the past—but it isn’t necessarily so.

In any case, journalists, analysts, experts, and any number of intelligence services are currently hard at work trying to match these details with known Islamic State leaders, who are known to use multiple noms de guerre. We’ll know sooner or later, and perhaps the mystery has already been solved: “ISIS has a new leader. We know exactly who he is!” tweeted U.S. President Donald Trump on November 1.

The ‘Islamic’ in ‘Islamic State’

Interestingly, the statement read by the Islamic State’s new spokesperson, one Abu Hamzah al-Qurashi, also gave some clues as to how Abu Ibrahim was appointed—or at the very least, how the group wants us to believe his appointment happened.

As a fundamentalist cult whose entire self-image is based on the idea that it is, in fact, a theocratic nation led by a caliph, the Islamic State needs to take historical precedent very seriously.

Sure enough, Abu Hamzah made a point of clarifying that Abu Ibrahim’s succession had taken place in accordance with “the tradition [Sunnah] of the Noble Companions.” The prophet’s companions, known in Arabic as the Sahaba, are the men and women who joined Islam while the prophet was still alive, under his leadership. They are seen as exemplary Muslims, uncorrupted by later distortions of the faith.

As concerns the institution of the caliphate, Sunni Muslims reserve particular veneration for the first four caliphs (632-661 CE), who are collectively known as the Rashidoun, or “the rightly-guided.”

Looking at their early and ideal models of transition, several different methods were in fact used.

The first caliph, Abu Bakr, was elected upon Mohammad’s death in 632 CE, in the absence of clear instructions from the prophet. However, Abu Bakr appointed his own successor, Omar, while he was still alive. As for Omar, he handled the succession issue by establishing a committee tasked with choosing a third caliph on his death—they chose Othman. When Othman was murdered, the fourth rightly-guided caliph, Ali, arrived to power amid internal conflict through a convoluted process that involved rallying supporters to his side.

These events are of course the subject of an enormous amount of scholarship and studies, and their details and nuances have been debated among Muslims for more than a thousand years. But the very short version is this: there was no single method for how to select a new caliph in early Islam, with rightly-guided caliphs having come to power both through election and direct appointment by their predecessor.

The Shoura Council Decided

The October 31 statement by Abu Hamzah al-Qurashi seems to be suggesting the choice of Abu Ibrahim as Islamic State caliph involved something of a combined method, but that ultimately the decision rested with the Shoura Council.

Abu Hamzah says the Islamic State’s Shoura Council—its top advisory and governance body—convened immediately upon confirmation of Baghdadi’s death to organize the transition. Given the security conditions in Syria and Iraq, that’s remarkable in itself. It would be an even bigger feat if representatives of far-flung Islamic State “provinces” in the Russian Caucasus, Afghanistan, or West Africa also sit on the council. On the other hand, the statement doesn’t specify that the Shoura Council convened in a physical meeting, so maybe they just posted 👍s in a chat group.

Abu Hamzah’s statement goes on to say that the “Sheikhs of the Mujahedin”—which, in this context, likely just means the Shoura members themselves—mutually agreed to pledge allegiance to Abu Ibrahim. The word he uses is tawafaqa, which suggests a broad consensus, though it doesn’t necessarily mean unanimity.

Moreover, Abu Hamzah claims that the Shoura Council’s decision was taken “after consulting with their brothers and [after] working in accordance with the testament of the caliph of the Muslims, may God accept him.”

The “brothers” in question are most likely Islamic State members outside the council, such as senior commanders and scholars whose views must be taken into account. The “caliph of the Muslims,” in this case, is Baghdadi, and the word translated here as “testament” is wasiyya.

Baghdadi’s Testament

Tamimi’s English translation renders wasiyya as “counsel,” but “testament” or “will” seems like a more reasonable choice in the context of Baghdadi just having joined the choir invisible. That doesn’t necessarily imply a formal, written letter, however—it could refer to views and orders given by Baghdadi while he was still alive.

The line about Baghdadi’s testament has been highlighted by experts on Salafi-jihadism like Hassan Hassan and Sam Heller, since it suggests that the group had a pre-arranged mechanism for how to transition to a new leader. Planning its line of succession ahead of time would certainly make sense for a group with massive leadership turnover, and where member are bound together by personal pledges of allegiance to the top guy. Even so, this was the first public reference to instructions from Baghdadi.

On the other hand, the word testament doesn’t tell us much more than that Baghdadi had left some form of instruction behind. It may mean that he had specifically ordered that Abu Ibrahim should be the new caliph upon his death. It could also mean that he expressed a personal preference for Abu Ibrahim without actually selecting him, or that he left a shortlist of successors to choose from, or that he devised a system for how to select the new leader without specifically naming anyone—or some combination of the above.

It’s not obvious to what extent the Islamic State leadership would feel bound by Baghdadi’s decisions after his death, but Abu Hamzah does make clear that the group took Baghdadi’s will into account and worked according to it. Then again, he is just as careful to note that the Shoura Council consulted with “their brothers.”

What it all comes down to is that the decision ultimately rested with the members of the Islamic State’s Shoura Council. They took Baghdadi’s testament into account and they consulted with others, and then they confirmed Abu Ibrahim as the new caliph.

But that’s assuming that Abu Hamzah told the truth about how the appointment happened—and that is a big if. The Islamic State spokesperson may as well have tried to put a legalistic, pious gloss on a chaotic or corrupted process or even, in theory, to paper over a divisive internal power grab. For the moment, we just don’t know—and that is perhaps as far as we can get into the inner workings of the Islamic State without more information.

Divine Test or Divine Punishment? Explaining Islamic State Losses

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Since it began losing territory in Iraq and Syria in 2016, the Islamic State’s official line for explaining its losses has been that God is subjecting the believers to a test or trial (tamhis, ibtila’). The theme was introduced in May 2016 by Abu Muhammad al-‘Adnani, the Islamic State’s official spokesman until his death later that year, in an audio address recalling the struggles of the Islamic State of Iraq between 2006 and 2012. Al-‘Adnani reminded listeners of “God’s practice of testing and trying the mujahidin,” hinting that more of the same lay in store. In October 2016, an editorial in the Islamic State’s official Arabic weekly, al-Naba’, spoke similarly of God’s habit of “trying the believers with misfortune and hardship … before God’s victory will descend upon them.”

In other words, so the message goes, take heart and despair not, for the divine tribulation will surely pass and the triumphant march toward final victory will resume. As Abu al-Hasan al-Muhajir, al-‘Adnani’s successor as speaker, put it in a speech in April 2017: “If we are dispossessed of a city or an area or a village, this is only the testing and trying of the Muslim community, in order that the ranks may be purified and the filth expunged.” Thereafter, he said, God will give victory to the believers and, as prophesied, they will go on to conquer the world.

To most members and supporters of the Islamic State, this message might be persuasive enough. But not all are on board. Indeed, a large number have pushed back spiritedly against the notion that their suffering is somehow a divine test, accusing the Islamic State of being responsible for the present travails. According to them, what we are witnessing is not a divine test so much as a divine punishment. The Islamic State’s leadership, in this view, erred badly, indulging ideological extremism, corruption, and oppression, thus incurring God’s wrath. The two explanations for the Islamic State’s losses are thus the trial thesis and the oppression thesis. As the Islamic State prepares to cede its final pocket of territory in eastern Syria, the adherents of the latter may be growing.

The oppression thesis takes form

The oppression thesis dates back to at least summer 2017, when two Islamic State scholars composed letters setting out a litany of complaints against the caliphate’s leadership. The two letters, by Abu Muhammad al-Husayni al-Hashimi and Abu ‘Abd al-Malik al-Shami, respectively, were described in an earlier post, and since have been translated by Aymenn Al-Tamimi (see here and here). As will be recalled, these men were reacting to a series of developments involving the promulgation of a memorandum on takfir (excommunication) seen by the scholarly class as too extreme and the subsequent death of several scholars who objected to it. Yet their concerns went beyond the immediate context of the takfir dispute.

Al-Hashimi questioned the Islamic State’s very claim to be following “the prophetic methodology,” arguing that “oppressors, ignoramuses, and innovators” had taken over the caliphate while Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi was nowhere to be seen. Al-Shami complained similarly of “oppressive, errant, deficient, and extremist commanders” who had seized the reins of power in the caliph’s absence. Both claimed that these leaders were advancing a Kharijite ideology, referring to the early Islamic sect famous for its extremism in takfir. In al-Shami’s words, the Islamic State was “exchanging its religion for the religion of the Kharijites,” while dissenters were being imprisoned or killed.

As a result, according to the two letter-writers, the Islamic State’s worldly fortunes were being affected. God was punishing the pseudo-caliphate. “Do you not have a reminder and an admonition in all these dreadful events and calamities that are befalling the Islamic State?” al-Hashimi asked al-Baghdadi, quoting Qur’an 6:42: “Indeed, We sent to nations before thee, and We seized them with misery and hardship that haply they might be humble.” Al-Shami was equally strident on this score. “Indeed,” he wrote, “what the Islamic State is going through today is not a test, as the misleading media lead us to believe. Rather it is a substitution”—a reference to God’s threats in the Qur’an (9:39, 47:38) to “substitute another people instead of you.”

For both writers, a key piece of evidence was a statement made by Abu Muhammad al-‘Adnani back in April 2014, in a speech defending what was then the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham. In the speech, al-‘Adnani beseeched God to punish the Islamic State if it veered toward extremism. “O God,” he exclaimed,

if this state be a state of Kharijites, then break its back, kill its leaders, bring down its flag, and guide its soldiers to the truth. O God, and if it be a state of Islam, ruling by Your book and the practice of Your prophet and waging jihad against your enemies, then fortify it, empower it, make it victorious, establish it in the land, and make it a caliphate on the prophetic methodology.

In the eyes of al-Hashimi and al-Shami, God’s reply to al-‘Adnani was abundantly clear. The signs of His disfavor were everywhere and irrefutable. “Indeed, I see the confirmation of this entreaty being realized before us,” al-Hashimi commented. “We have seen clearly how al-‘Adnani’s entreaty … was answered,” wrote al-Shami. The extremist and oppressive functionaries appointed by al-Baghdadi were getting their comeuppance. And yet, as is God’s way, all were paying the price. Al-Shami quoted verse 8:25 of the Qur’an: “And fear a trial which shall surely not smite in particular the oppressors among you; and know that God is terrible in retribution.”

The oppression thesis gains steam

Even though al-Baghdadi retracted the controversial takfir memorandum in September 2017, in a sign of support for the scholars and their somewhat more nuanced position on takfir, the concerns voiced by al-Hashimi and al-Shami lingered among the scholars, unconvinced as they were that the leadership had truly changed. Over the next year and more, the scholars continued to air grievances of the same kind, and they continued to be imprisoned and killed. That the Islamic State was inviting punishment was a recurring theme in their remarks.

A major spokesperson for the oppression thesis was the Jordanian-born Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi, for a time the head of the Islamic State’s Office of Research and Studies. In mid-March 2018, he addressed a letter to “those in authority” in which he elaborated his concerns and called on his correspondents to reform. Among other things, al-Maqdisi criticized them for imposing limits on the range of acceptable religious discourse, particularly as concerns takfir. In his view they had come “to equate themselves with God in commanding right and forbidding wrong,” which was to say they were usurping God’s sovereignty. Al-Maqdisi complained further of “the spread of innovations,” including “the throwing of accusations of unbelief and innovation without restriction,” and “the spread of oppression and violation of blood and property.” It was these transgressions, he submitted, that were to blame for the current troubles:

We are certain that the successive losses, defeats, and setbacks that have befallen this state are not the result of a shortage of numbers and materiel. Indeed, the cause of this is sin, which has drawn the wrath of the Almighty and the visitation of His retribution against us all.

Al-Maqdisi called on his correspondents to correct their errors, but the advice did not go over well. Repeatedly imprisoned in 2018, he was executed toward the end of the year on charges of apostasy.

Another Islamic State scholar who publicly espoused the oppression thesis was the Saudi Abu al-Mundhir al-Harbi. In a sermon during the siege of the Province of al-Raqqa (presumably late 2017), he said, “Indeed, this tribulation and this setback that we are passing through, we have no doubt that it is a punishment from God for what our hands have perpetrated … We have sinned and oppressed and grown arrogant.” It is necessary, al-Harbi continued, for us “to repent sincerely to God, to recognize that we have oppressed and transgressed and grown arrogant and haughty.”

Two other scholars to sing this tune were the North African Abu Mus‘ab al-Sahrawi and the blind Egyptian Abu ‘Isa al-Masri. In early summer 2018, al-Sahrawi delivered a sermon in eastern Syria excoriating the leadership for oppression and extremism. “What has befallen us,” he told his congregation, “what has broken our back, divided our authority, and empowered the enemies of God over us is oppression and extremism in religion.” According to the media group that uploaded the sermon online, al-Sahrawi was henceforward banned from preaching. Also speaking that summer, likely also in eastern Syria, al-Masri likened the Islamic State to a sinking ship. “Just as oppression and corruption sink the ship,” he said, “so extremism in religion sinks the ship as well.”

Al-Nasiha

Distributing these works online is a collection of dissident media agencies comprising Mu’assasat al-Wafa’, Mu’assasat al-Turath al-‘Ilmi, and Mu’assasat Ma‘arij. The first of these has also published articles by pseudonymous scholars blaming the Islamic State for its failures. (See, for instance, this March 2018 essay by Abu Suraqa al-Hashimi.) Yet an even more critical outlet in this regard been a media group called al-Nasiha (“Advice”), launched in 2018 as a forum for giving advice to the caliph.

Since its founding, al-Nasiha has published some twenty essays by a small group of writers. The most prolific of them is a certain Ibn Jubayr, who has given the impression of being in the Islamic State’s last holdout in eastern Syria. While extremely harsh in tone, Ibn Jubayr has for the most part exhibited a begrudging loyalty to the caliphate. Echoing the concerns of al-Hashimi and al-Shami, he has complained of the marginalization of the scholars, the effective disappearance of al-Baghdadi, the spread of extremism, and the consolidation of power in the hands of a small group of unscrupulous and repressive men. In July 2018 he told the latter that “your soldiers see you as the cause behind the erosion of the [Islamic] State and its breakup.” And in October 2018 he said to them, “Your oppression and your arrogance toward God … have served the coalition and brought us to where we are today.”

Gradually, al-Nasiha veered in the direction of outright opposition. The starting point was a speech by al-Baghdadi in August 2018 in which he reiterated the trial thesis, came to the defense of his deputies, and decried division. Ibn Jubayr responded with a critical commentary, noting regretfully that the caliph was very much aware of the oppression being unleashed by his underlings. The breaking point for him seems to have come in December 2018, when a number of imprisoned scholars were killed in a coalition airstrike on a prison in the Syrian village of al-Kushma. In an essay on the event, published in February 2019, Ibn Jubayr claimed that the Islamic State was now in some ways worse than the infidel states of the Middle East. Mentioning al-Baghdadi, he remarked, “may God swiftly set him right or replace him,” and addressing his deputies, he said, “God has made you and your false caliphate a [warning] sign for all who see your oppression.”

Al-Naba’ responds

It was not till early February 2019 that the Islamic State’s Central Media Department (Diwan al-I‘lam al-Markazi) finally took it upon itself to refute these arguments, devoting an article to them in al-Naba’. “One of the greatest crimes and greatest innovations that we are seeing today spreading among the people,” read the article, “is their plunging into some of God’s foreordainments and their attempt to explain God’s will by means of them.” This was al-Naba’s way of attacking the view that the Islamic State had invited God’s punishment. Those espousing this view, the article said, “deny categorically that what is befalling some of the believers today is the test by which [God] will raise them by degrees.” Rather, they claim that the cause is God’s anger at the “sin or oppression” of the Islamic State’s rulers and the “deviation of [its] creed and path.” And they argue that His anger will not be lifted until these supposed errors are corrected.

The problem with this argument, according to al-Naba’, is that it presumes knowledge of the unseen—namely, knowledge of God’s “foreordainments”—and to claim such knowledge is “manifest unbelief.” “The Muslim servant,” al-Naba’ says, “knows that what befalls him or others is by God’s wise decree, but he does not know God’s intention behind this decree.”

Two weeks later, an author for al-Nasiha wrote a refutation of the al-Naba’ article, disputing the idea that to judge the Islamic State negatively was to claim knowledge of the unseen. “It is known in the religion by necessity,” wrote the author,

that oppression does not please God, that unwarranted killing does not please God, that extremism in religion does not please God, that torturing Muslims does not please God, that imprisoning them and terrorizing them and wrongly seizing their property does not please God … The things that anger God were clarified and established by Him in His book and in the practice of His prophet.

Furthermore, he went on, there are numerous verses of the Qur’an that show that “sins incur God’s anger, His retribution, and His punishment.” As God says (Q. 40:21), “God seized them for their sins.”

“Injustice” in Baghouz

In light of the above, it is worth noting that several Islamic State members who have fled the last bastion of Islamic State rule in Syria, in Baghouz, seem to subscribe to some version of the oppression thesis as outlined by Ibn Jubayr and others. One of them is Shamima Begum, the British “ISIS bride” who recently explained to the Times of London why “[t]he caliphate is over.” “There was so much oppression and corruption that I don’t think they deserved victory,” she said. If her account is to be believed, her Dutch husband was imprisoned by the Islamic State for six months on charges of espionage, during which he was subjected to torture. “There was a lot of similar oppressions of innocent people. In some cases fighters who had fought for the caliphate were executed as spies even though they were innocent.” A similar complaint was voiced by the American Hoda Muthana, who mentioned the oppression of the Islamic State in an interview with the Guardian. “In the end,” she said, “I didn’t have many friends left, because the more I talked about the oppression of Isis the more I lost friends.”

Speaking with Agence France-Presse, a man named Abdul Monhem Najiyya offered a different kind of criticism: “There was an implementation of God’s law, but there was injustice … The leaders stole money … and fled.” As for al-Baghdadi, he complained, “He left us in the hands of people who let us down and left. He bears responsibility, because, in our view, he is our guide.”

Another harsh verdict came from one Um Rayyan, who told the Associated Press, “I think this is the reason for the failure of the Islamic State … God protected us (from the international coalition.) But when there was corruption inside us, God stopped making us victorious.” Her particular grievance was the elevation of Iraqis over non-Iraqis, a theme to which Ibn Jubayr devoted an essay.

Of course, some of these comments are self-serving and should be assessed skeptically. Yet they do suggest that the oppression thesis has its adherents among those fleeing the caliphate. As the al-Naba’ article indicated, objections of this kind have been “spreading” (muntashira). Whether they might erode the Islamic State’s base of support is hard to say, however, as the trial thesis has its devotees as well. As a woman in Syria recently told a CNN journalist, “God is testing us.” For the moment, this appears to be the dominant narrative among former residents of the caliphate. How dominant it remains will be a measure of the Islamic State’s strength in the years to come

Death of a Mufti: The Execution of the Islamic State’s Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi

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For the October 2018 issue of the CTC Sentinel, I wrote about the case of Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi, a senior religious scholar in the Islamic State accused of treason and espionage by the group’s leadership in eastern Syria. According to Mu’assasat al-Turath al-‘Ilmi (“The Scholarly Heritage Foundation”), a dissident Islamic State media outlet, Abu Ya‘qub was arrested by the Security Department (Diwan al-Amn) back in July 2018; the next month, on August 30, 2018, the charges against him were read aloud in parts of eastern Syria controlled by the Islamic State, a stunt seen as portending his execution.

Since then, two things have changed. The first is that Abu Ya‘qub, a Jordanian whose real name is Yusuf ibn Ahmad Simrin, has been killed—according to Mu’assasat al-Turath, executed. On December 4, 2018, the dissident media outlet confirmed his death at the hands of the Security Department, stating that the latter was giving the impression that he had died in an airstrike when in fact he had been killed earlier. The airstrike in question occurred on November 28. As Mu’assasat al-Turath then reported, it took the lives of several of Abu Ya‘qub’s scholarly allies—Abu Hafs al-Hamdani, Abu Mus‘ab al-Sahrawi, and Abu Usama al-Gharib—who were being “imprisoned unjustly in the prisons of the Security Department,” or “the department of the oppressors at war with the allies of God.” On December 5, 2018, Mu’assasat al-Turath confirmed the death of another scholar, Abu Muhammad al-Masri, in the same airstrike.

The significance of these deaths lies in the fact that these men were party to a serious ideological dispute that has riven the Islamic State for some time. Abu Ya‘qub and his allies have represented the relatively moderate side of this dispute—moderate in the sense of being somewhat more cautious in approach to takfir, or excommunication—as against those they have labeled extremists—extremist in the sense of embracing a more expansive approach to takfir—who are concentrated in the Security Department, the Central Media Department (Diwan al-I‘lam al-Markazi), and to some extent the Delegated Committee (al-Lajna al-Mufawwada). Even though these scholars succeeded, in September 2017, in having their theological views formally adopted by the Islamic State in an audio series on takfir, which was written by Abu Ya‘qub and al-Masri, their influence declined quickly thereafter. Beginning in December 2017, according to Mu’assasat al-Turath, the scholars were subjected to periodic incarceration. The death of these five men may well be a knockout blow to this scholarly faction advocating a more nuanced approach to takfir, though others of their ilk remain.

The second thing that has changed in the intervening period is that the full charge sheet against Abu Ya‘qub that was read out in late August 2018 has been leaked online. On December 8, 2018, the Telegram account “And Rouse the Believers,” which is associated with the most takfir-prone elements of the Islamic State, uploaded an audio recording of a man reading a document with the charges. As the speaker indicates, the document is titled “Clarifying the Case of Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi.” Its purpose is to disabuse Abu Ya‘qub’s supporters of the notion that he is an embattled and persecuted scholar á la Ibn Taymiyya. Previously, only some of the content of the charge sheet was available. In early September 2018, two written defenses of Abu Ya‘qub appeared online that referred to it. The first, an open letter by a number of unnamed Islamic State scholars, took up some of the charges leveled against him, refuting them one by one. (The scholars here repeatedly call Abu Ya‘qub the “mufti” of the Islamic State and the “author of its creed.” The mufti designation presumably refers to the fact that Abu Ya‘qub succeeded the Bahraini Turki al-Bin‘ali as emir of the Office of Research and Studies, following the latter’s demise in May 2017; the second description alludes to his co-authorship of the audio series on takfir from September 2017.) The second defense, penned by a certain Ghandar al-Mujahir, took the same approach, refuting some of the charges in turn, but was further valuable in quoting a few of them.

Below is my translation of “Clarifying the Case of Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi” as I have transcribed it from the audio recording. The author of this statement, according to Mu’assasat al-Turath, is the “governor of al-Sham,” whom Ghandar al-Muhajir identifies as a certain ‘Abd al-Qadir. (Previously, Mu’assasat al-Turath referred to the governor of al-Sham as Hajji Hamid, which could be another name for the same person.) The scene of the recording appears to be a small gathering of Islamic State members in eastern Syria, some of whom are sympathetic to Abu Ya‘qub. In several additional audio clips uploaded by “And Rouse the Believers” (see here, here, here, and here), these men can be heard pleading Abu Ya‘qub’s case, asking that he be allowed to repent. The response from the man in charge is that Abu Ya‘qub has committed apostasy, the implication being that he is to be put to death.

The veracity of the charges aside, the document forms a unique window onto the mindset of the men in control of the last bastion of Islamic State territory in eastern Syria. As one can see, they have been—or at least were at the time of the document—worried about the possibility of dissent spiraling out of control. Since dissent was concentrated in the personage of Abu Ya‘qub, cutting him down to size was necessary to stifling it and maintaining their grip on power. So also, it would seem, was cutting him down.

 

Clarifying the Case of Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi

Praise belongs to God, Empowerer of Islam by His help, Abaser of polytheism by His mastery, Manager of affairs by His command, Lurer to destruction of the unbelievers by His plot, Who decreed the days to turn by His justice. And prayers and peace be upon him by whose sword God raised high the lighthouse of Islam. To proceed:

To all of our mujahid brothers and sons in the Province of al-Baraka,1 may God protect them. Peace be upon you, and the mercy of God and His blessings.

We are writing you today to settle the dispute and put an end to the rumors concerning a matter that has been the subject of much back and forth, to the point that it has nearly lit the fuse of dissension (fitna) between the brothers. In this state of affairs, we have found it necessary for us to intervene, though we regret the condition that we have reached in terms of the loss of trust from your side in your commanders. Indeed, we see this as one of the reasons for the weakness and diminishment at which we have arrived today vis-à-vis the enemies of God, where an observer considers us to be a body but our hearts are disunited (cf. Q. 59:14). Where is your trust in your commanders? Where is your goodwill towards them? Where is your construal of their actions in the most favorable light? Where are your scruples about reviling them and their honor? O mujahidin, are we blood-shedders, whose only interest is the spilling of blood such that we will descend upon innocent blood, imprisoning this one or killing that one for no reason other than that we are displeased with their actions? Do you not fear God with regard to us, O sons and brothers of ours? By God, this has never been our way of interacting with our commanders. It has not been our practice to oppose them in any matter so long as they do not command us to sin, God forbid. Rather, we have learned to construe their actions in the most favorable light, to treat them with reverence and respect, and to accord them the greatest possible goodwill. Nonetheless, we spared them no counsel, but rather we would advise and criticize, though within the boundaries of right conduct for advising and criticizing. And we did not rouse anyone against them, or inform against them to a soldier, or publicly condemn any one of them with epithets far from their proper meaning. All this has caused one person to bear advice and another to rouse the believers, though all we see him doing is rousing the soldiers against their commanders. The names have been many but their objectives have been one, namely, to split the ranks of the monotheists and sow division among the mujahidin. In this they have succeeded to a certain degree, and there is no power and no might save in God.

O mujahidin, is it to this extent that you see us as unscrupulous with God’s servants that some have begun to popularize Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi as Ahmad ibn Hanbal and the Ibn Taymiyya of this age, for no reason other than that we imprisoned him for something that he committed? Were any of you in our position, you would have done far worse to him than we.

Indeed, we are writing you about the case of Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi to clarify some of the matters that, because of their being obscure to many of the brothers, have led some of you to this condition of mistrust of us and what we have done with this man. So here is some of what has been proven against this man in the past and in the present:

[1] The shaykh, the commander of the believers [i.e., Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi], may God protect him, previously sat with him and with the Shari‘a officials (shar‘iyyin); he reached an agreement with them on a number of issues, and they made a pact with him concerning these. Among them was the agreement that no Shari‘a-related content was to be released without consulting the Department of the Caliph (Diwan al-Khalifa), and that whoever did otherwise was to be subject to the greatest of punishments. This was the request of Abu Ya‘qub himself at the time. However, Abu Ya‘qub did not abide by this. He released a number of books without the knowledge of the Department of the Caliph, knowing that he had asked the commander of the believers, may God protect him, to release some of the books and that the commander of the believers had put off his request until after the shaykh [i.e., Baghdadi] could read them himself. Abu Ya‘qub agreed to this; then he released the books without consulting the commander of the believers, may God protect him. Then the commander of the believers, may God protect him, asked Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Tamimi,2 may God accept him, to imprison al-Maqdisi, and he was placed in prison. Abu Ya‘qub lied to al-Tamimi, saying that the book had been released without his knowledge and that he had not even finished it. So al-Tamimi solicited an excuse for him, and Abu Ya‘qub left prison having been warned and pledging to him not to repeat this. Then he repeated this a number of times. Therefore, he is a liar and a stirrer of dissent against the Department of the Caliph (Diwan al-Khalifa).

[2] Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman, may God accept him, informed the Department of the Caliph that Abu Ya‘qub had not obeyed orders following his release from prison and had refused to go to the frontlines. Therefore, in our view, he is a weakling and a coward.

[3] Abu Ya‘qub lied during questioning concerning his spying on Shaykh Abu Muhammad al-Furqan,3 may God accept him, on behalf of the wicked Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi.4 At first he lied about this, while later he admitted that he had sent secrets of the [Islamic] State to Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi indirectly. Therefore, he is a spy and a liar.

[4] Among the reasons for his detention recently is his collecting the archive of the distant provinces. This is one of the most serious matters of all, as it [i.e., the archive] contains all the information of the distant provinces of the Islamic State—Libya, Khurasan, Yemen, Somalia, and West Africa, among other provinces—including numbers, supplies, weapons, and distribution areas, among other things. During interrogation with him concerning the archive and how he obtained it, he related more than five stories, all of them untrue. Then, when he saw that there was no escaping the matter, he said that he stole it from the computer of Abu Ahmad al-‘Iraqi,5 may God accept him. This was his admission after lying five times about how he came into possession of this archive. The entirety of this interrogation is preserved in an audio recording. We do not know if he was truthful in the end or if he lied again as in the previous five instances.

[5] [Also among the reasons for his detention recently is] his possession of the archives of a number of departments and committees that we found with him. He has been collecting all of the internal and external secrets of the [Islamic] State, which do not concern him, knowing that the discovery of these with him would mean death. He admitted that he said this in his own words  to one of the brothers, and nonetheless he continued to keep them [i.e., the archives]. This is one of the most serious matters, and we do not know what motivated him to do this. Likewise, we do not know if he leaked them to anyone, whether directly or indirectly, as he did previously in passing secrets of the [Islamic] State to al-Maqdisi.

[6] He is contributing to the creation of a fracture in the community of Muslims on the pretext of the commanders’ oppressiveness, taking advantage of the brothers’ ignorance. This is a serious matter, as he is undermining the security of the mujahidin and the stability of the community. It has not been long since the case of the [brothers in] the Media and their refraining from work,6 in which by his act he rendered a service on a golden platter to the intelligence RAND Corporation, which mentioned months before that it would demolish the media establishment of the Islamic State and work to bring it down.

[7] Abu Ya‘qub lied to the commander of the believers, may God protect him, that he had no ties connecting him to the heretical Abu Muhammad al-Hashimi.7 Then it was confirmed to us, by his own admission, that he was in contact with him and even knew his hiding place when he was wanted, before he fled the lands of the Islamic State. This he did not tell the shaykh [i.e., Baghdadi], knowing that the shaykh had informed all the Shari‘a officials, including al-Maqdisi, of the seriousness of what al-Hashimi had done and declared his blood licit before them. Therefore, he is a traitor, a supporter of the criminal Abu Muhammad al-Hashimi, and a provider of cover for him despite knowing the gravity of his crime and the harm that he did to the Muslims.

[8] His incitement against the community by saying that al-Hashimi was correct in his criticism of the [Islamic] State. This has been confirmed by the testimony of witnesses as well as by his own admission. This he said while being, in the eyes of the brothers, the scholar from whom fatwas are to be sought and who is close to the caliph, may God protect him. Therefore, we will not reprove the brothers in general after this, if that were the opinion of the elite and the commanders.

[9] He caused unrest in the ranks of the [Islamic] State when he gathered the Shari‘a officials together in a conference in order, in their words, to put pressure on the leadership to submit to their demands and to urge them not to go to the frontlines.

[10] It has not been proven to us that he went to the frontlines or participated in military operations. Rather, on the contrary, when Shaykh [Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman] al-Tamimi, may God accept him, appointed him to go to battle, he stayed behind and did not join up.

[11] It has been proven to us, and confirmed by his own admission, that he has been in communication with the heretical Abu Suhayb al-Najdi and sought funds from him. The heretical al-Najdi then undertook to transfer funds to him, and he obtained those funds.

[12] It has been proven that he is in possession of the stamp of the emir of the Office of Research and Studies, a red stamp with a logo. When he was asked about it, he claimed that he had kept it out of laziness and neglect. Perhaps it will be clear to anyone with reason that turning over one’s stamp upon going from one job to the next is an elementary part of the job. What, then, if it is an emir of a committee or a department or a central office and his stamp is red in color? In light of what we have related of his lying and treachery, which have been proven by his own admission and by evidence, can anyone blame us if we suspect that it was he who was leaking the files of Research and Fatwas [i.e., the Office of Research and Studies] to the media from time to time? Indeed, the writings may not be old ones, as the archive is with him and the stamp is with him. All he would have to do is backdate the text and publish it on the internet as if it were an old document.

[13] Issuing fatwas to the brothers in matters that contravene the methodology of the people of the sunna and the community. This is the least serious of what he has done, yet it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, coming as a coda to his previous acts of espionage, mendacity, and betrayal of what he had vowed and was entrusted with. It was after this that he was arrested, though it was not the principal cause of the arrest.8

In conclusion, by God, we did not desire to reveal all of these things and disseminate them among the brothers, yet when we saw that there were those trying to defend his case, feigning ignorance of his wrongdoing, and seeking to fashion a general opinion of support for him, it became necessary for us to give an explanation to our soldiers, as an excuse before our Lord (cf. Q. 7:164) and in order that there not remain for the admirer any particular specious argument. There are those who have begun mentioning him from the pulpits, saying that he is the scholar being tried [by God], and that he is like Ibn Hanbal and Ibn Taymiyya, implying that we are like their imprisoners. God forbid that we are those who would imprison a godly scholar for merely coming out with the truth as he sees it. When we saw all of this, it became incumbent upon us to relate what we have related, lest it lead to the dishonoring of a man from among the mujahidin, and in order that everyone bear responsibility for his words after this announcement, not talking about what he knows not and causing division in the ranks of the mujahidin.

And may God reward you.

1. As noted by the BBC in October 2018, the Province of al-Baraka (Wilayat al-Baraka) “previously used to describe the northeastern province of Hasaka,” but it “appears to have moved around 200 km south,” to the area of Deir al-Zour.

2. Former governor (wali) of Raqqa Province (Wilayat al-Raqqa), and then a member of the Delegated Committee. See Risalat al-Majlis al-‘Ilmi fi bayan hal ghulat Diwan al-I‘lam, December 2018, p. 4; see further the translation and analysis by Aymenn al-Tamimi.

3. Former head of the Central Media Department (d. September 7, 2016).

4. Jordanian-Palestinian jihadi scholar in Jordan who has opposed the Islamic State.

5. Former head of the Security Department. See Risalat al-Majlis al-‘Ilmi, p. 7.

6. The reference here is to an episode in March 2018 when 40 or so Islamic State officials complained about the Media Department’s domination by extremists in takfir. Following their complaint, they were given a choice between continuing to work for the Media Department or heading to battle. Mu’assasat al-Turath has said that Abu Ya‘qub supported those who complained, but it denies that he issued a fatwa against working anywhere but the military.

7. Former official in the Office of Research and Studies who wrote a book highly critical of the Islamic State, al-Nasiha al-Hashimiyya (“The Hashimi Advice”).

8. This appears to refer to his arrest on July 11, 2018 for allegedly issuing a fatwa prohibiting those in the Islamic State from working in any part of the caliphate besides the military. It will be recalled that Mu’assasat al-Turath denies this charge.

Understating Zarqawi

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In his recent article for The Atlantic, “The True Origins of ISIS,” Hassan Hassan makes two related claims concerning the provenance of the Islamic State. One is that analysts have overstated the role of Abu Mus‘ab al-Zarqawi, the Jordanian leader of al-Qaida in Iraq who died in 2006, in crafting the group’s “dark vision”; the other is that the Iraqi religious scholar Abu ‘Ali al-Anbari (né ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Qaduli), who died in 2016, played the greater role in this regard. “It was Anbari, Zarqawi’s No. 2 in his al-Qaeda years, who defined the Islamic State’s radical approach more than any other person,” Hassan writes. “[H]is influence was more systematic, longer lasting, and deeper than that of Zarqawi.” What is more, he contends, “Zarqawi was likely influenced by Anbari, not the other way around.”

I am not convinced of these conclusions, primarily because the basis presented for them—a 96-page biography of Anbari written by his now-deceased son and published in July by Islamic State dissidents—does not bear them out. This biography is an important source for the history of the Islamic State, and Hassan is right to draw our attention to it. It details the hugely important role played by Anbari as a jihadi actor since the early 2000s, and particularly following his release from prison in 2012 when he became one of the Islamic State’s senior leaders. Yet the document says little about Zarqawi, and nothing about Anbari’s influence on him.

In January 2004, when Zarqawi wrote his famous missive to Osama bin Laden outlining a strategy for attacking the Shi‘a in Iraq, it would appear from the document that he had met Anbari once, in Baghdad in 2002.* Hassan writes that Zarqawi’s “idea for targeting the Shiites probably came from native Iraqis like Anbari,” which could be true. But the biography does not tell us this; nor does it suggest that one of these Iraqis was “possibly even Anbari himself.” It does not impute ideological influence to Anbari over Zarqawi at all. It is not clear how close the two were before Anbari became Zarqawi’s deputy in late 2004 (or perhaps slightly thereafter). Apart from their one meeting in 2002—and the fact that Anbari unwittingly produced gun silencers for Zarqawi’s group before the U.S. invasion—what contact they may have had before this time is not discussed. When they did forge a partnership, Zarqawi was the senior partner. Anbari had been second-in-command of an insurgent group in northern Iraq called Ansar al-Sunna. The biography relates that Anbari wanted to join forces with Zarqawi and his group, which had been retitled al-Qaida in Iraq after Zarqawi pledged fealty to Bin Laden in October 2004. Anbari failed to strike a unity agreement, ultimately leaving Ansar al-Sunna to become Zarqawi’s subordinate.

In 2005, according to the biography, Anbari was imprisoned at Abu Ghraib for six months. Upon his release, he went on a mission for Zarqawi to Waziristan to meet with the al-Qaida leadership. Following this, in January 2006, he became head of a consortium of jihadi groups, including al-Qaida in Iraq, called the Mujahidin Shura Council. This leadership is significant as the council would gradually morph into the Islamic State of Iraq, which was declared in October 2006. The biography attributes the idea for the council mainly to Anbari. However, a June 2006 death notice for Zarqawi by al-Qaida in Iraq credits the Jordanian with “the beneficial influence on establishing this council to become the first stone of the Islamic state that will be erected, God willing, in the land of the two rivers.” And an August 2016 issue of the Islamic State’s weekly newsletter asserts that leadership of the council was to be rotational. In any event, neither Zarqawi nor Anbari was present at the creation. The former had been killed in June, the latter arrested in April. Anbari would remain in prison until 2012, his role during this period confined to indoctrinating his fellow inmates.

Significantly, the biography points to a shared ideological link between the two men. Anbari’s ideological formation was complete only after 9/11, when he read the works of Abu Basir al-Tartusi, Sayyid Imam al-Sharif, and Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi. The last of these was Zarqawi’s teacher and longtime prison companion. It would appear, then, that Zarqawi and Anbari were influenced by the same strain of Jihadi Salafi thought emanating from the pens of a number of radical clerics in the Middle East. But Zarqawi was influenced by it first. Both men would take a more extreme—more violent and sectarian—approach to this ideology than al-Maqdisi himself, and Iraqis were likely critical to shaping it. To be sure, Zarqawi was not acting alone, and many lesser-known jihadis from Iraq, such as Anbari, occupied key positions alongside him. Another was Abu Hamza al-Baghdadi, who served on al-Qaida in Iraq’s Shari‘a Council. I agree that “it is too simplistic to say that ISIS was Zarqawi’s brainchild.” But it is a stretch to infer, from the evidence at hand, that Anbari’s role was the more foundational.

Furthermore, the biography does not challenge the view that it was Zarqawi who introduced the extreme violence that would become the Islamic State’s hallmark. By all accounts, Zarqawi’s influence in this regard was the Egyptian scholar Abu ‘Abdallah al-Muhajir, with whom he affiliated in Afghanistan. As Brian Fishman writes in his book The Master Plan: ISIS, Al-Qaeda, and the Jihadi Strategy for Final Victory, “[I]t was Abu Abdallah who defined Zarqawi—and the Islamic State’s—embrace of sectarianism, brutality, and suicide tactics that have come to define Zarqawism’s adherents.” The first book published by the Islamic State’s printing press in 2014 was Abu ‘Abdallah al-Muhajir’s Issues in the Jurisprudence of Jihad, known commonly—and aptly—as The Jurisprudence of Blood. As Charlie Winter and Abdullah K. Al-Saud have pointed out, the book opens with a quote by Zarqawi acknowledging al-Muhajir’s role in convincing him of the validity of suicide operations.

It is worth recalling here just how celebrated Zarqawi is in the Islamic State, both as a religious thinker and as a dynamic leader. Far from being the semi-literate thug he is sometimes made out to be, Zarqawi spoke impeccable classical Arabic as evidenced by the dozens of hours of recorded speeches and lectures he left behind—nearly 700 pages in transcription. These are frequently quoted by the group. For instance, an Islamic State video filmed in Syria in 2015 shows a man telling the people of Saudi Arabia:

O people of the Land of the Two Holy Sanctuaries, listen to just three lectures by the mujahid shaykh, the heroic leader, “the commander of the martyrdom-seekers,” Abu Mus‘ab al-Zarqawi, may God have mercy on him, who ignited volcanoes in the face of the Rejectionists [i.e., the Shi‘a], who was martyred approximately ten years ago. Listen to these three lectures, titled “Has Word of the Rejectionists Reached You?” They shall bring every devoted Muslim to have as one of his greatest hopes and highest objectives the killing of the Rejectionists in particular among the enemies of God.

His legacy is also commonly invoked by the leaders of the Islamic State. In April 2013, for example, when Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi announced the expansion of the Islamic State of Iraq to Syria, recasting it as the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham, he reaffirmed his commitment to the “path” laid down by Zarqawi. “May Shaykh Zarqawi be delighted in his resting place,” he said, “for the path that he tread, whose waymarks he established and guided toward, those who came after him followed it. And we, God willing, are following it as well.” In the absence of further evidence, the path belongs to Zarqawi above all.

 

* Correction, December 9, 2018: An earlier version of this post stated that Zarqawi‘s letter was written in February 2004, which is the date noted in Zarqawi‘s collected works (p. 58.) In fact, the undated letter was discovered in mid-January 2004, so it cannot have been written later than then. It may also be worth noting Jean-Pierre Milelli‘s speculation (Al Qaeda in Its Own Words, p. 249) that the real author of this letter was Abu Anas al-Shami, Zarqawi‘s principal Shari‘a adviser in Iraq before his death in September 2004. Al-Shami is the author of a book condemning the Shi‘a.

How Turkey and the election of Erdogan are fragmenting the Jihadi movement

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What to make of Turkey is arguably the most controversial issue in the Jihadi movement in Syria today. Is it to be seen as an infidel state? Is its leader, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, to be considered an apostate? Is collaboration with Turkey religiously legitimate? What should be the attitude to Erdogan’s victory in last week’s election? These are some of the questions that have bedeviled Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the Jihadi group previously affiliated with al-Qaida in an earlier incarnation, and have become the most serious source of division between the group and the al-Qaida loyalists organized in Tanzim Hurras al-Din.

HTS’s balancing act

Previously, HTS appeared vehemently opposed to any relationship with the Turks, even criticizing groups like Ahrar al-Sham and Nour al-Deen al-Zinki for cooperating with Turkey on a diplomatic and military level. This was to change radically, however, when HTS openly assisted Turkish forces entering north-western Syria to set up military observation points as part of the Astana diplomatic process. The religious basis used by HTS to rationalize its “cooperation” with Turkey came from none other than Jihadi scholar Abu Qatada al-Filastini, who legitimized certain forms of interaction with the Turks in a fatwa issued as part of a Q&A session in October 2017. As pressure on HTS mounted in spring 2018, one of its senior shar’i figures, Abu al-Fatah al-Farghali, on 18 May affirmed that none of the group’s red lines regarding Turkey had been crossed. About two weeks later, however, Yousef al-Hajar, the head of HTS’s administration of political affairs, acknowledged in an interview with al-Jazeera that his organization in fact had a close relationship with Turkey, which he described as an “ally.” Al-Hajar had probably said too much, and a few days later the interview was removed by al-Jazeera while it continued to be heavily debated within Jihadi circles.

On 8 June, as al-Qaida-aligned figures such as ‘Adnan Hadid began to question the group’s Jihadi bona fides, HTS felt it necessary to publish a statement on its continued commitment to jihad. The statement explained that the group’s strategy is a balancing act whereby it tries to order its priorities and neutralize its opponents without compromising its principles, which remain based on sharia. “Islamic politics is a part of jihad,” the statement read, and the group will act according to what benefits jihad insofar as this does not compromise sharia.

Abu Qatada celebrates Erdogan’s win

With the Turkish presidential election last month, the intra-Jihadi debate escalated further. For several days following the announcement of Erdogan’s victory on 24 June, senior Jihadi figures engaged in a fierce debate over how close one could and shouldget to Turkey.

The opening move was a statement shared by Abu Qatada on his Telegram channel on 24 June. In the statement, Abu Qatada calls Erdogan’s victory a “mercy” for the people of Turkey, not because he particularly likes Erdogan (in fact, in October 2017, he stated that he does not consider Erdogan a Muslim) but because he sees his competitors, “apostate unbelievers who hate the religion,” as worse. While acknowledging that Jihadi opinion is divided over Erdogan, Abu Qatada nonetheless takes obvious pleasure in his election: “I love his victory over his enemies—leftists, secularists, and nationalists who hate the religion.” Abu Qatada avers here that he is only pleased with Erdogan’s victory, not with Erdogan himself (“the man does not represent me”), but this qualification did not satisfy some Jihadis.

The sheikh of tawhid and his supporters

Compared with his close friend and fellow Jihadi ideologue Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, Abu Qatada has taken a much more diplomatic approach to the last year’s Jihadi infighting, including on the issue of collaborating with Turkey. It was therefore little surprise that Maqdisi, just a little later the same day, published his own take on the Turkish election that was in stark contrast to Abu Qatada’s celebratory words.

Following the traditional method of framing his remarks in response to questions posed to him, Maqdisi recounts (here and here) how a person asked him, “Should we elect for Erdogan?” Referring to himself, he answers, “Are you asking the one who people call the sheikh of tawhid, who has dedicated his life to supporting it and giving it priority over everything … are you asking him about electing a person who rules only by secularism?” The questioner then asks Maqdisi, “So are we supposed to let the one with greater enmity towards Islam win?!” For Abu Qatada, this was the crux of the matter: had Erdogan not won, somebody more opposed to Islam would. But for Maqdisi, this is not a legitimate concern. The muwahhideen (believers in monotheism) should not be concerned with choosing between the one with greater enmity towards Islam and the one with less enmity. They should simply be advocating and upholding tawhid (monotheism).

To better understand these differences between the Jihadi ideologues, I posed a question to Maqdisi myself, asking him how he views the disagreement. “Fools are those who build their homes on sand,” he replied. “I do not join them in celebrating his [Erdogan’s] victory.” However, he was careful not to attack anyone specifically for applauding Erdogan. Regarding the narrower question whether it is permissible to “rejoice” in his victory (as the early Muslims allegedly rejoiced in the victory of the Byzantines over the Persians), Maqdisi is more lenient, saying that it is fine. Yet rejoicing in Erdogan’s victory is different, he says, from supporting it and holding up Erdogan as an “Islamic example.” Being realistic, Maqdisi recognizes that his words are not capable of changing the opinion of the “polytheistic majority.” He calls for every single person to look inside himself and make the right choice in accordance with God’s law. People should not fear for Erdogan in his competition with less Islamic candidates, but should only fear for monotheism.

As it would turn out, Maqdisi was not alone in reasoning. Fellow Jordanian Bilal Khuraysat (aka Abu Khadija al-Urduni), who is historically close to Maqdisi, weighed in with his own criticism of those celebrating Erdogan in two pieces released on 25 June. Khuraysat is a former security and sharia official in Jabhat al-Nusra who broke off from the group when it left al-Qaida. More recently, he has been rumored to be on the shura council of the new al-Qaida-affiliated Hurras al-Din. If Maqdisi was unwilling to attack Abu Qatada head on, Khuraysat displayed no such qualms. As reported by Cole Bunzel, Khuraysat claimed that “Abu Qatada no longer enjoys the scholarly cachet and prestige he used to in the jihadi current.” This is a serious, though arguably true, accusation against a senior Jihadi scholar—and fellow Jordanian at that. In his second piece, this time without mentioning the name of Abu Qatada, Khuraysat criticized the compromise between secularism and Islam that some people are seeking, thus touching on the same theme as Maqdisi.

The barrage against Abu Qatada’s position did not stop there. An unnamed Maqdisi supporter provided a two-part critique (see here and here) of sheikhs who do not understand monotheism and its boundaries. According to the author, history is full of examples of noteworthy figures that fought for Islam but at the same time contravened tawhid by supporting un-Islamic regimes. Supporting Erdogan is no different, he says. This is “the Erdogan who bombed the city of al-Bab and others and killed hundreds of Muslims in order to seize control of that region. The Erdogan who opened his airspace and bases to the Americans to bomb the leaders of jihad in the Levant. The Erdogan who arrested scholars and students of religion and handed them over to their home countries.” Instead of listening to these sheikhs who dilute Islam, one should listen to Maqdisi, who since the days of the Afghan jihad has been a stalwart upholder of a pure monotheism. Another al-Qaida supporter, “Salah al-Deen,” offered a similar take.

To Abu Qatada’s aid

Luckily for Abu Qatada, he was not alone either. The same day Khuraysat published his critiques, two other Jihadi ideologues offered congratulatory remarks similar to Abu Qatada’s. In brief statements, Abdullah al-Muhaysini and Tariq Abdelhaleem claimed that Erdogan’s victory was better than the alternative. The Saudi Muhaysini, it should be mentioned here, is a former member of HTS, while the Egyptian Abdelhaleem, who is based in Canada, publicly supported the group before it split from al-Qaida. Yet perhaps more relevant is the fact that both Muhaysini and Abdelhaleem have had their falling outs with Maqdisi during the past year, having been on the receiving end of his criticism. (Here Abdelhaleem calls Maqdisi a Haruri, referring to a Kharijite sect; in his response, Maqdisi says Abdelhaleem has “lost his mind.”)

More direct support for Abu Qatada came from Abu Mahmoud al-Filastini, a student of Abu Qatada’s based in London who has also been at odds with Maqdisi over the past year (see his article titled “Maqdisi and the free fall”.) Abu Mahmoud’s first response was delivered in the form of advice to Bilal Khuraysat, whom Abu Mahmoud claims is reading Abu Qatada’s statement out of context. Abu Mahmoud emphasizes that his mentor explicitly stated that Erdogan does not represent him. His second comment centers on a constant issue in the Jihadi movement: how creed (‘aqida) is properly translated into action (manhaj). Maqdisi and his followers are known for their extreme puritanical methodology, allowing little room for pragmatism. For Abu Mahmoud and Abu Qatada, it does not make sense to make an enemy out of Erdogan despite the fact that they do not necessarily consider him a good Muslim ruler. Just look at the Taliban and its relationship to Pakistan, Abu Mahmoud says. Perhaps trying to provoke controversy, Abu Mahmoud says that the strategy of making enemies everywhere most of all resembles how the Islamic State behaved.

The Islamic State weighs in

Soon after, an article in a pro-Islamic State newsletter, ‘From Dabiq to Rome,’ also commented on the issue. Although the article does not name any of the above figures, it should be read as a critique of Abu Qatada’s position and his celebration of Erdogan’s victory. The article refers to a fatwa by the late Saudi Jihadi-Salafi sheikh Hamud ibn ‘Uqla al-Shu‘aybi, in which he says that “congratulating the kuffar and sending them blessings upon their taking office ​is something prohibited by the sharia.” Though al-Shu’aybi’s fatwa was issued in the context of congratulating Vladimir Putin, according to the newsletter it is no less applicable to Erdogan, who long ago abandoned Islam by supporting a secular system and directly waging war against the people of Islam. Indeed, whoever congratulates Erdogan on his victory is as much an apostate as Erdogan himself. The logic here is not controversial within Salafi circles, based as it is on the third nullifier of Islam mentioned by Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab. But the unsubtle implication in this case is that scholars like Abu Qatada and Muhaysini are to be considered apostates.

This was already the Islamic State’s position, so no news there. But the Islamic State’s argument is noteworthy in that it illustrates the divisive potential of the Erdogan issue. Though they may pretend otherwise, it is clearly a serious bone of contention between Maqdisi and Abu Qatada, and between different sides of the pro-al-Qaida wing of the Jihadi movement more generally. It is unlikely that we have heard the end of it.

A House Divided: Origins and Persistence of the Islamic State’s Ideological Divide

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Last month, a jihadi Telegram user called “And Rouse the Believers” leaked a series of documents related to the Islamic State’s internal ideological rift. As discussed in a previous post, this dispute revolves around the doctrine of excommunication (takfir), and specifically whether those hesitating or refusing to excommunicate unbelievers are themselves to be excommunicated. Heading up the more moderate side in this debate was Turki al-Bin‘ali, the emir of the Islamic State’s Office of Research and Studies, until his death in an airstrike in May 2017. The more extremist side was represented by the Delegated Committee, the Islamic State’s executive council, until Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi reconstituted it late last year and instituted a theological compromise of sorts.

“And Rouse the Believers,” whose name comes from Qur’an 4:84, is something of an anomaly: he is even more extreme than the extremists in this contest, believing that the Islamic State has lost its way. But that is beside the point. The documents he has unearthed shed considerable light on the origins of a struggle that continues to plague the ailing caliphate.

The Methodological Committee

One document is an internal memo on the activities of the so-called Methodological Committee (al-Lajna al-Manhajiyya), a body that was responsible for investigating the beliefs of the Islamic State’s scholars. It has also been referred to as the Office for Methodological Inquiry (Maktab al-Tadqiq al-Manhaji). As was seen before, the committee led an inquisition into senior Islamic State scholar Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Shami al-Zarqawi, accusing him of holding too moderate a position on takfir.

According to the memo, the committee was formed in February 2016 as the result of a meeting between three Islamic State senior officials, Abu Muhammad al-Furqan, Abu Sulayman al-Shami, and a certain Abu Khabbab al-Masri. Al-Furqan, an Iraqi who headed the Islamic State’s Media Department, was killed in an airstrike in September 2016. Al-Shami, a Syrian-American known for his editorial work on the group’s English-language magazines, was killed by the same means in January 2017. The purpose of the committee was to take the measure of the numerous scholars, or “sharia officials” (shar‘iyyin), who had flocked to the the Islamic State, and to determine if any were guilty of ideological “transgressions.” The committee met with the scholars individually, asking them about their backgrounds, their journeys to the caliphate, and their views on takfir.

The committee was initially concerned, the memo explains, with the alleged “extremism” of some of the scholars, but it soon came to the conclusion that the greater problem was “Murji’ism,” a theological term denoting, in this context, undue leniency in takfir. The end of the memo comprises a chart with brief notes on the results of meetings with 29 scholars, including al-Bin‘ali, who is described as vehemently opposed to the work of the committee.

Called to repent

The entry on al-Bin‘ali also refers to his involvement in the case of Abu al-Mundhir al-Harbi, a Saudi scholar with the Office of Research and Studies who was accused of being soft on the issue of man-made law. Al-Harbi, who was affiliated with al-Qaida in Pakistan and Afghanistan from 2010 onward, arrived in Syria in 2014. Like al-Bin‘ali, he had an association with the jihadi ideologue Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, who wrote the introduction to his 2009 book defending al-Qaida’s terrorism. Sometime in 2015, he came under fire for his written answers to a series of questions put to the Islamic State by a group of prisoners in Baghdad. The answers were never published.

One of the questions was whether it was permissible to appeal to courts administering man-made law in order to recover something, such as property, that was wrongfully seized. In other words, is it allowed to take advantage of the court systems of unbelievers? Al-Harbi’s answer was yes, and al-Bin‘ali, among others, signed off on the response. But when the collected answers were brought to the Delegated Committee for review, some of its members balked. Seeking the judgment of other than God, as jihadis are keen to point out, is tantamount to ascribing partners to God, i.e., polytheism. Yet in the view of men such as al-Harbi and al-Bin‘ali, there are exceptions to such rules, and this was one of them.

“And Rouse the Believers” leaked two documents related to this episode. The first is a four-page brief on the Methodological Committee’s meeting with al-Harbi, written by Abu Sulayman al-Shami. It accuses al-Harbi of “permitting polytheism” and recommends that he be made to repent. The second document is a letter from al-Bin‘ali to the Office of the Caliph and the Delegated Committee, complaining that he too has been called to repent for “permitting polytheism.” Al-Bin‘ali was furious.

In his letter, dated November 2015, he explains that the accusation against him was brought by Abu Muhammad al-Furqan, who, he laments, refuses to see shades of grey in the issue of appealing to infidel courts. Though regretting some of the ambiguous language in al-Harbi’s response, he is firm in his view that the issue is not black and white. Even al-Furqan, he says, believes it permissible to pay ransoms to the Iraqi judiciary.

The letter also reveals that al-Furqan was serving as the “adviser” (mushrif) of the Office of Research and Studies, a role that al-Bin‘ali did not think him qualified for. Portraying him as deeply suspicious of the scholars, al-Bin‘ali advises that men with greater knowledge assist him in advising the office. Al-Furqan, he says, is reliant for his views on Abu Sulayman al-Shami, who is described as not very learned in religion. Al-Bin‘ali underscores his “severe displeasure” with the charge brought against him and “the extent of the divide between the Office of Research and Studies” and al-Furqan.

But if al-Bin‘ali saw al-Furqan and al-Shami as anti-intellectual extremists, he would soon be looking back at them as relative moderates.

Letter to Baghdadi

In late January 2017, about two weeks after the death of al-Shami, al-Bin‘ali wrote a letter to Baghdadi warning him against including the “extremists” in the power structure of the Islamic State. For months he had been hearing, he said, of a new policy intended to appease them by giving them a share of the top posts. But this “theory of balance” would needlessly embolden them. The fact of the matter, he went on, is that “the extremists’ numbers, even if they are great, are not greater than those who follow the truth.” Their power should therefore be curtailed, not enhanced.

This was a time, however, when the “extremists” were on the rise in the organization and the likes of al-Bin‘ali were losing out. In a lecture delivered in Raqqa back in late 2014 or early 2015, al-Bin‘ali had confidently stated, “What we proclaim is the creed of the Islamic State, and it is the creed of the Commander of the Believers … The methodology of the [Islamic] State, and the creed of the [Islamic] State, are issued by the Department of Research and Fatwas … this is by the seal of the Commander of the Believers [i.e., Baghdadi].” But soon the “department” was reduced to an “office” and the word “fatwas” was replaced with “studies,” symbolizing the decline in the influence of al-Bin‘ali and his outfit. The Methodological Committee was created soon afterward, and during the next year the Delegated Committee would release its explosive statement on takfir, prompting a strong reaction from the scholars.

One of the most senior scholars to object was a Saudi named Abu Bakr al-Qahtani, himself a member of the Delegated Committee at one point. “And Rouse the Believers” leaked part of a document, dated July 2017, advising that he repent of his all-too-tolerant position on takfir. This was about a month before he died in an airstrike. Like al-Bin‘ali, who met the same fate two months earlier, al-Qahtani was posthumously vindicated by the new statement on theology issued in September 2017. This statement—the “compromise” referred to above—was released in six installments. The most significant point that it makes is that takfir is “not part of the foundation of the religion” but rather “one of the requirements of the religion.” This was precisely al-Qahtani’s view. The internal memo on the Methodological Committee had complained that he relegated takfir to a subordinate status, as “one of the necessities of the foundation of the religion.”

A house divided

Al-Bin‘ali and al-Qahtani may have won the argument over takfir, but the new statement endorsing their views has been no salve to the ideological dispute. The Islamic State, and particularly its online support community, are more divided today than ever before. The ideological battlefield can be outlined as follows.

On one side stand the al-Wafa’ Media Foundation and the al-Turath al-‘Ilmi Foundation, two online media groups closely aligned with the Office of Research and Studies, or whatever is left of it. (The office is rumored to be headed today by a Jordanian named Abu Ya‘qub al-Maqdisi, but it is not clear that it is functional.) Al-Wafa’, which was created in April 2014, produces mostly unofficial written materials in support of the Islamic State, though occasionally it breaches the official-unofficial line. For instance, it recently published several pieces by Ahlam al-Nasr, the “poetess of the Islamic State” (see here, here, and here). Al-Turath, which was founded in October 2017, is primarily concerned with publishing the “heritage” (turath), written and otherwise, of the Islamic State’s scholars who were or still are with the Office of Research and Studies. Its releases include a six-volume collection of books and fatwas that runs to nearly 3,000 pages. According to al-Turath, this was assembled by al-Bin‘ali in August 2016, but the Delegated Committee and the Media Department obstructed its publication. Related to al-Wafa’ and al-Turath is a discussion group called “The Group for Constructive Criticism among the People of Islam,” a Telegram chatroom where like-minded Islamic State supporters congregate.

On the other side are a number of high-profile, pseudonymous activists and writers such as “Tarjuman al-Asawarti,” “Yemeni and Proud of My Islam,” and “Uncovering the Jews of Jihad and the Suspect Ones.” All of these are allied with the Islamic State’s Media Department, which the supporters of al-Wafa’ and al-Turath contend is a den of extremists. The Media Department, which is still very much active, is responsible for producing the Islamic State’s weekly Arabic newsletter, al-Naba’, which al-Wafa’ and al-Turath never promote or link to. Al-Asawarti and his allies often refer to the followers of al-Wafa’ and al-Turath as “the suspect ones” (al-mashbuhin), calling into question their support for the caliphate. The “suspect ones” consider their accusers “extremists.”

The two sides, the “suspect ones” and the “extremists,” frequently trade insults and refutations online. Back in February, Tarjuman al-Asawarti published a lengthy report about al-Wafa’, claiming that it is working against the interests of the caliphate, even that it is a spy cell. A prominent contributor to al-Wafa’ shot back with two rebuttals (see here and here). One of the biggest complaints against the “suspect ones” is that they are publishing official Islamic State products without the consent of the group’s leaders. Other complaints, such as that they work for the Rand Corporation, are not to be taken seriously.

It is hard to know which side has the numerical advantage online. Telegram has cracked down hard on the accounts of both sides, making it difficult to observe trends clearly. But the activity of the “extremists” seems to be the greater. Within the Islamic State itself, the dispute is less visible, but rumors abound that it remains intense. Al-Turath often leaks information about the scheming of the “extremists” and the periodic arrests of certain scholars.

A candle in the dark

In March of this year, al-Wafa’ published an essay by one of its senior writers calling on both sides to bury the hatchet and unify ranks. It does not seem to have had any effect. Yet there may be potential for reconciliation of another sort—with the more hard-line supporters of al-Qaida

Last month, one of the more prominent al-Qaida supporters on Telegram, “the Son of al-Qaida,” noted his “surprise” at the emergence of a “more open and balanced tendency” in the Islamic State, one following the teachings of al-Bin‘ali and less inclined to dismiss al-Qaida as heretics. Those belonging to this tendency, he says, are standing up to the “extremism” of the Islamic State. He further claims, perhaps too optimistically, that they are gaining ground, both “in the online space and on the ground.” From his point of view, this a welcome development, one that his pro-al-Qaida colleagues ought to embrace and encourage. “Don’t curse the darkness,” he tells them.“Rather, light a candle.” There is hope yet, he suggests, for this faction of the Islamic State.

The possibility of an al-Qaida-Islamic State merger has been oversold by some analysts, but another kind of jihadi reconciliation is conceivable. With the al-Qaida support network riven by its own factions of “moderates” and “extremists,” one can imagine a scenario where the “moderates” of the Islamic State and the “extremists” of al-Qaida eventually link up. This is probably a ways off, and may well require the dissolution of both jihadi organizations as a precondition. But the ideological common ground is there should a light be shone on it.

Abu al-Qassam: Zarqawi’s right-hand man who stayed loyal to al-Qaida

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Everywhere Abu Musab al-Zarqawi went, Abu al-Qassam was with him. Even to prison. Abu al-Qassam was al-Zarqawi’s childhood friend, later his companion and finally his deputy. After spending more than 10 years in Iranian captivity, he was released in March 2015, but despite the Islamic State claiming to be the heirs of al-Zarqawi, it is now with al-Qaida that Abu al-Qassam’s loyalty lies.

Originally from Ramallah, Abu al-Qassam grew up in Zarqa, just north of Jordan’s capital Amman. It was here, in one of the city’s mosques – most likely al-Hussein bin Ali Mosque – that he one day as a young man met Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who eventually would become the founder of al-Qaida in Iraq, the Islamic State’s predecessor. The two would go on to become close, even family.

He was born as Khalid Mustafa Khalifa al-Aruri in 1967, but it was as Abu al-Qassam or Abu Ashraf that he eventually became known in Jihadi circles. Little is known about his early years and the information available is conflicting. One story is that he worked for a Saudi organization, the IIRO, in 1991 before returning to Zarqa a year later. Perhaps it was then that he stumbled upon al-Zarqawi, one year his senior and who was back from Afghanistan after his first battlefield experience. Another account is that he in fact joined al-Zarqawi in Afghanistan. In any case, from 1993 the two were inseparable.

Like al-Zarqawi, Abu al-Qassam was imprisoned in Jordan on 29 March 1994 until March 1999 (another account is that Abu al-Qassam was released early as there was not enough evidence against him) in the ‘Bay‘at al-Imam’ case, referring to the group al-Zarqawi had established upon his return together with his mentor Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi. As soon as they were released, however, it was not long before the two young Jordanians left for Afghanistan for a second time.

Zarqawi’s companion, deputy and brother-in-law

Upon arrival in Afghanistan, al-Zarqawi was approached by the senior al-Qaida member Saif al-Adl, who saw a great potential in the Jordanian. Al-Adl immediately wanted to start cooperation with al-Zarqawi, through logistical assistance and funding, but al-Zarqawi needed time to think it over. He had to consult with Abu al-Qassam. Some days later, Abu al-Qassam and Abdul Hadi Daghlas, Zarqawi’s other close companion, gave their blessing to Saif al-Adl’s proposal and from then on al-Qaida started to finance and support al-Zarqawi’s camp in Herat in western Afghanistan.

It was in Afghanistan at the camp in Herat that Abu al-Qassam married al-Zarqawi’s sister and assisted his emir in establishing a small Jihadi community, a mini society, that would lay the foundation for what is today known as the Islamic State. Abu al-Qassam not only acted as al-Zarqawi’s deputy but was also a commander at the camp. The two were so close that al-Maqdisi allegedly described Abu al-Qassam as al-Zarqawi’s shadow – everywhere he went, Abu al-Qassam went too.

The strikes against the US on 9/11 would eventually change that, however. In the aftermath of the attack, al-Zarqawi and his entourage were forced to flee in November 2001 as it became impossible to remain at the camp after the US invasion. But first the Jordanians had to go on a strenuous three-day trip to Kandahar to attend a meeting of high-ranking Jihadis that nearly cost their lives as the Americans bombed the building where the meeting was taking place. After intense battle in Kandahar and later in Tora Bora, al-Zarqawi’s group was forced to leave for Iran and it is likely that Abu al-Qassam was part of the group traveling to Iran at this point.

Whether Abu al-Qassam stayed on in Iran or followed al-Zarqawi to Iraqi Kurdistan in 2002 remains unknown, but it has been reported that he served as al-Zarqawi’s key liaison with Ansar al-Islam, the al-Qaida-affiliated group in Kurdistan that assisted with the relocation of al-Zarqawi’s group to Iraq. This work, however, probably took place in Iran and not in Kurdistan. Reportedly, Abu al-Qassam participated in an important meeting with people close to Mullah Krekar in August 2003 in Tehran, where it was agreed to set up training camps in Kurdistan. Interestingly, a Moroccan investigation into the March 2003 bombings in Casablanca claimed that Abu al-Qassam had helped finance the attack, thus indicating a role in the Iraq-based group’s external operations as well.

Abu Al Qassam

As is now well-known, the Iranian authorities were rather accommodating of Jihadi activities in their country and this was also the case with al-Zarqawi’s group, but for some reason this would suddenly change. Iranian police entered several hotels in Tehran, where al-Zarqawi’s people were known to reside, and it is likely that Abu al-Qassam was arrested as part of this crack down.

In Iranian prison, or house arrest, Abu al-Qassam would meet several familiar faces, among them Saif al-Adl, who had been responsible for the liaison between al-Qaida and al-Zarqawi’s group in Afghanistan. Several other senior al-Qaida figures and members of Usama bin Laden’s family were also in Iranian captivity.

Relocating to Syria

Abu al-Qassam spent approximately 12 years in prison before being released in March 2015 as part of a prisoner exchange deal. Besides Abu al-Qassam, four senior al-Qaida members were released, namely Abu al-Khayr al-Masri, Abu Muhammad al-Masri, Saif al-Adl and Sari Shihab. Initially there was doubt over the location of the five senior figures and even over how engaged they remained after so many years in prison. Al-Zarqawi’s death in 2006, while Abu al-Qassam was imprisoned, only raised questions regarding his dedication to Jihad. On several occasions, it was reported that the released al-Qaida senior members had relocated to Syria at the directive of Ayman al-Zawahiri to support Jabhat al-Nusra and the so-called Khorasan group. We now know that these reports were only partly true.

The first rumours surrounding Abu al-Qassam emerged in September 2015, saying that he had been chosen to lead a new al-Qaida group in Iraq (see here and here). This, however, was not correct and it is unlikely that Abu al-Qassam stayed long in Iraq if at all. Instead, we know that Abu al-Qassam relocated to northern Syria, but when exactly is unclear. A Jabhat al-Nusra supporter disclosed in September 2015 that a senior member released from Iranian house arrest had arrived in Syria on the orders to al-Zawahiri, but whether it was Abu al-Qassam or Abu al-Khayr is still a mystery.

Abu al-Qassam’s first appearance in Syria was reported in December 2015. This was at the same time as high-ranking Jabhat al-Nusra leaders Sami al-Uraydi and Iyad al-Tubaysi (aka Abu Julaybib) relocated from southern Syria to the north, possibly to meet up with Abu al-Qassam. According to al-Maqdisi, Abu al-Qassam joined the Coordination Committee in Syria (lajnat al-mutaba’a fi-l-Sham), which allegedly was responsible for the link between al-Qaida and its Syrian affiliate, although not under direct supervision of al-Qaida leader Ayman al-Zawahiri.

It would take some time before Abu al-Qassam himself would confirm his presence in Syria, but that he did in early 2017 in an eulogy for Abu al-Khayr, al-Qaida’s deputy and his longtime friend from their time in Iran. In his statement, Abu al-Qassam praises his fallen friend, extends his blessings to al-Zawahiri and promises to work to keep the Syrian Jihad on the right path.

Abu al-Qassam is arguably a man of action rather than of writing. His closeness to Zarqawi could testify to that, but we can also take Abu al-Qassam at his word. He begins several of his writings by saying that he is not at ease with a pen in his hand and unlike many of his Jihadi colleagues not a fan of writing on the internet. That said, since the beginning of 2017 – and corresponding with Abu al-Khayr’s death – Abu al-Qassam has become increasingly active.

In May, in a brief analysis of the situation in Syria authored together with his friend Sami al-Uraydi (who posts Abu al-Qassam’s statements on his Telegram channel), Abu al-Qassam outlined the role of Iran, Russia and Turkey in Syria, noting that Turkey is broadening its influence in Idlib and that the mujahideen needs to adapt to the situation. The best way of fighting the enemy, he claimed, is to initiate a guerilla war, which he defines as the next stage (al-marhala al-muqbila) in the struggle. Uraydi, also a Jordanian, added that the Jihadis in Syria are critically affected by the ongoing confusion, referring to the Jihadi infighting and the split with al-Qaida, and emphasizes that this has to be resolved immediately.

The following month, Abu al-Qassam was forced to his keyboard once again. The war of words between Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, previously known as Jabhat al-Nusra and Jabhat Fath al-Sham, and his good friend and senior ideologue Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi were threatening the bond with al-Qaida sympathizers in Syria. Abu al-Qassam’s intervention, in which he argued that problems should be solved and not allowed to escalate and that al-Maqdisi should be respected despite one’s disagreement with him, was – as he promised Abu al-Khayr – an effort to safeguard al-Qaida’s Jihadi project in Syria.

Loyalty to al-Qaida

In early 2014, Abu al-Qassam was still imprisoned in Iran and could only witness the split between al-Qaida and the Islamic State and the ensuing fragmentation within the Jihadi environment from a distance. Ever since the rupture, the Islamic State has emphasized its ‘lineage’ from al-Zarqawi as a way to capitalize on his authority and legacy. According to the Islamic State itself, it is different from al-Qaida as it continued in the footsteps of its founder al-Zarqawi (and Usama bin Laden) while al-Qaida deviated after al-Zawahiri assumed control. Thus the Islamic State, and not al-Qaida, is the Zarqawist side in the intra-Jihadi civil war.

Is it surprising, then, that al-Zarqawi’s most loyal remaining companion chose to ally himself with al-Qaida and not the Islamic State after his release from prison? Initially it could be questioned whether Abu al-Qassam was still devoted to Jihad, and if so what group he remained loyal. This is no longer the case, however, as his recent involvement in the debate over the split between al-Qaida and its Syrian affiliate Hayat Tahrir al-Sham attests.

Both Abu al-Qassam’s own testimony and that of Sami al-Uraydi give the impression that he is indeed an active player on the Jihadi scene and that this loyalty is unequivocally with al-Qaida and Ayman al-Zawahiri. In his statement, Abu al-Qassam explains how he initially sanctioned Jabhat al-Nusra’s desire to split from al-Qaida, but later reversed after he became familiar with the position of two of al-Zawahiri’s deputies (Abu Muhammad al-Masri and Saif al-Adl). As is now well-known, Jabhat al-Nusra went ahead and separated from al-Qaida against the will of the group’s senior leaders. The testimonies provide valuable insights into the dealings with such issues within Jihadi groups and not least the role played by Abu al-Qassam, who participated in several of the meetings that were held prior to the decision.

Peace initiative

Of course, Abu al-Qassam’s closeness to al-Zarqawi and his later opposition to the Islamic State are not unique. Other people, such as Abu Julaybib, spent time in al-Zarqawi’s Herat camp and married one of al-Zarqawi’s sisters before eventually siding with Jabhat al-Nusra in its contest with the Islamic State. But the fact that Abu al-Qassam was Zarqawi’s very close friend and deputy, and now ranks as a senior al-Qaida member, can only be seen as a victory for al-Qaida.

While Abu al-Qassam’s exact role has not been revealed, it appears likely that he will try act as a unifying actor between the conflicting parties in the future. One recent example of such a role is his support to the scholarly peace initiative that was presented in late October, though so far this has produced no results.

 

Tore tweets at @torerhamming

Caliphate in Disarray: Theological Turmoil in the Islamic State

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On May 31 of this year, Turki al-Bin‘ali, one of the Islamic State’s foremost religious authorities, was killed in Mayadin, Syria in an airstrike carried out by the U.S.-led coalition. Three weeks later, U.S. Central Command confirmed the death of “Turki al-Bin’ali, the self-proclaimed ‘Grand Mufti,’ or chief cleric, of ISIS.” His supporters online bemoaned his loss, circulating his “last will and testament” from June 2015, and in some cases composing commemorative poems (see here and here). The international media also took an interest in his death, CNN, for instance, reporting that “[o]ne of ISIS’ most important figures has been killed by an airstrike.” The Islamic State’s own media outlets, however, were noticeably silent on the matter. There was to be no official statement regarding the demise of the 32-year-old cleric from Bahrain, let alone any kind of eulogy. The reasons, it now seems, are clear.

At the time of his death, al-Bin‘ali was involved in a highly contentious theological controversy that has been roiling the Islamic State for some time. The dispute concerns the group’s position on takfir, or excommunication—namely, the excommunication of fellow Muslims—and al-Bin‘ali was on the losing side. On May 17, 2017, the Islamic State’s Delegated Committee, its executive council, issued a memorandum setting out the official stance on takfir, and for al-Bin‘ali it was too extreme. Two days later, he refuted the memorandum in a letter to the Delegated Committee, and twelve days after that, he was killed. More such refutations by Islamic State scholars followed, and in at least one other case the result—death by airstrike—was the same. In mid-September, in a highly unusual move, the Delegated Committee rescinded its controversial memo on takfir; al-Bin‘ali seemed to be posthumously vindicated. But before this, the several refutations of the Delegated Committee, including al-Bin‘ali’s, as well as some additional statements of dissent, found their way online. Together, these form an extraordinary window onto the theological turmoil in the Islamic State.

The caliphate’s “mufti”?

The first thing that should be addressed is the question of what role Turki al-Bin‘ali actually played in the Islamic State. As I wrote more than two years ago, there were rumors in late 2014 that al-Bin‘ali had been elevated to the position of chief mufti, and the accounts of certain Islamic State defectors seemed to corroborate that report. In 2016, a U.S. Treasury designation described him as the Islamic State’s “chief religious advisor,” noting that he “provides literature and fatwas for ISIL training camps.” Similarly, the U.S. Central Command statement referred to him as the group’s “Grand Mufti” and “chief cleric.” Some Arabic newspapers had taken to calling him “the mufti of Da‘ish.”

Al-Bin‘ali, as it turns out, was the emir of a body known as the Office of Research and Studies (Maktab al-Buhuth wa’l-Dirasat), which was previously known as the Committee for Research and Fatwas (Hay’at al-Buhuth wa’l-Ifta’), and before that as the Department of Research and Fatwas (Diwan al-Buhuth wa’l-Ifta’). The office has been responsible for preparing the religious texts studied in the Islamic State’s training camps and published by its printing press. At one point, it was also responsible for issuing fatwas. In the summer of 2014, as the Department of Research and Fatwas, it put out the infamous monograph justifying the group’s practice of slavery; in late 2014 and early 2015, as the Committee for Research and Fatwas, it produced a set of fatwas on a range of issues, from foosball to immolation. By late 2015, it was signing its publications as the Office of Research and Studies.

As one can see, al-Bin‘ali’s scholarly unit was demoted from department to committee to office, and in the process stripped of its prerogative of giving fatwas. The fact that al-Bin‘ali was in charge of what was the fatwa-issuing body of the Islamic State did make him, in a sense, the “chief mufti,” but this was never his official title. He was the emir of an office whose name and responsibilities varied over time.

According to a 2016 Islamic State video on the “structure of the caliphate,” the Office of Research and Studies is “concerned with researching shar‘i issues and expounding on any matters referred to it by various bodies”; it is “supervised” by the the Delegated Committee (al-Lajna al-Mufawwada). The Delegated Committee, so named because its members are “delegated” by the caliph, is “a select group of knowledgeable, upright individuals with perception and leadership skills … a body of individuals that supports [the caliph] … communicating orders once they have been issued and ensuring their execution.” It supervises all the Islamic State’s provinces, departments, committees, and offices. The impression given by the documents reviewed below is that the Delegated Committee, increasingly dominated by the allies of uber-extremists in takfir, gradually sidelined al-Bin‘ali and his office—and possibly even had a hand in his death.

“Hazimis” and “Bin‘alis”

As is well known, the Islamic State and al-Qaida are divided over the question of takfir, the former being more takfir-prone than the latter. But within the Islamic State itself there has also been a division, one sometimes described as between the more extreme “Hazimis” and the more moderate “Bin‘alis.”

“The Hazimis” (al-Hazimiyya), or “the Hazimi current” (al-tayyar al-Hazimi), who have been discussed by Tore Hamming and Romain Caillet, among others, are named for the Meccan-born Ahmad ibn ‘Umar al-Hazimi, a Salafi scholar in Saudi Arabia believed to be in his fifties. Though imprisoned by the Saudis since 2015, al-Hazimi is not known for his jihadi leanings, and there is some debate among jihadis as to whether he in fact belongs to the movement. A relatively obscure scholar, al-Hazimi earned a reputation in the jihadi universe only after the 2011 revolution in Tunisia, traveling there to preach on several occasions. In his lectures, he espoused a controversial doctrine known as takfir al-‘adhir, or “the excommunication of the excuser,” which became something of the watchword of the Hazimis.

The notion of takfir al-‘adhir is derived from two concepts in Wahhabi theology. The first is the requirement of takfir; the second is the inadmissibility of al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl, or “excusing on the basis of ignorance.” According to the founder of Wahhabism, Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab (d. 1792), it is incumbent upon all true believers to excommunicate—that is, to make takfir of—those deemed unbelievers, as well as to excommunicate those who fail to excommunicate them. As Ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab stated—and this is the line around which the Hazimi-Bin‘ali debate revolves—“Whoso fails to make takfir of the polytheists, or has doubts concerning their unbelief, or deems their doctrine to be sound, has [himself] disbelieved.” The duty of takfir is generally accepted in Jihadi Salafism, but there is some debate over al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl, that is, over whether ignorance may serve as a legitimate excuse for holding errant beliefs, and so shield one from the charge of takfir. For al-Hazimi, who follows the traditional Wahhabi view, al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl is categorically invalid, meaning that the ignorant heretic is to be declared an unbeliever; moreover, as he says, anyone who regards ignorance as an excuse for the heretic’s unbelief is also to be declared an unbeliever. Hence the idea of “the excommunication of the excuser.”

When al-Hazimi elaborated this doctrine in a series of recorded lectures in late 2013, he met with a great deal of opposition from jihadis. In mid-2014, Turki al-Bin‘ali denounced al-Hazimi’s concept of takfir al-‘adhir in a strongly-worded tweet, calling the phrase an innovation. Not long after, Abu Sulayman al-Shami, a Syrian-American official in the Islamic State’s media department, authored a scathing critique of al-Hazimi and his ideas. The main criticism leveled against al-Hazimi by his detractors was that his doctrine amounted to takfir in infinite regress (al-takfir bi’l-tasalsul). Takfir al-‘adhir, they said, necessarily entails a sequence of excommunication in which there is seemingly no end. (To put this in terms of Tom, Dick, and Harry: If Tom is an unbeliever and Dick excuses Tom’s unbelief, then Dick becomes an unbeliever; and if Harry excuses Dick’s unbelief, then Harry becomes an unbeliever; and so on and so on ad infinitum.)

The danger of al-takfir bi’l-tasalsul was explicitly warned against in the creedal manuals prepared by al-Bin‘ali’s division (see, for example, here, pp. 30-32, and here, pp. 58-60). The approach taken in these works was to affirm that while ignorance cannot be an excuse for major unbelief, the one who excuses unbelief on account of ignorance should not be immediately declared an unbeliever. Thus the endless series of takfir is forestalled. It was al-Bin‘ali’s role in promoting this relatively more moderate position that led some to speak of “the Bin‘alis” (al-Bin‘aliyya) and “the Bin‘ali current” (al-tayyar al-Bin‘ali) in contrast to the Hazimis and the Hazimi current. The terminology goes back to at least 2014.

Competing statements

In later 2014, the Islamic State’s General Committee (al-Lajna al-‘Amma), presumably the forerunner of the Delegated Committee, issued a statement prohibiting any talk about “the secondary issues” pertaining to al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl, and threatening to prosecute anyone distributing related audio, visual, and written material. The implied target of this threat was of course the Hazimis and their doctrine of takfir al-‘adhir. Certain “ignorant people,” the statement read, have sought to “sow conflict and division among the soldiers of the Islamic State” by raising these issues.

Also in later 2014, the Islamic State rounded up a number of Hazimi activists within its borders. In September, it executed two well-known shari‘a officials, Abu Ja‘far al-Hattab and Abu ‘Umar al-Kuwaiti, accused of adopting the Hazimi view on takfir, and in December released a video highlighting the arrest of a cell of “extremists”; the video was accompanied by an article in English discussing the “disbanding” of this cell. Those rounded up were accused not only of espousing dangerous ideas about takfir but also of plotting a rebellion against the caliphate. This was not to be the end of the Hazimis, however.

The next official statement on takfir came from something called the Central Office for Overseeing the Shar‘ia Departments (al-Maktab al-Markazi li-Mutaba‘at al-Dawawin). Bearing the number 155 and dated May 29, 2016, this statement, like the first, prohibited discussion of the secondary issues related to al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl; it also explicitly warned against al-takfir bi’l-tasalsul and banned the use of the term takfir al-‘adhir. At the same time, in an attempt to compromise with the Hazimis, it affirmed that there is no excuse for hesitation in takfir, and said that this ought to be clear to anyone living in the Islamic State. For whatever reason, this statement was not put into circulation until April 2017, when it was shared online in both written and audio form and published in the Islamic State’s Arabic weekly, al-Naba’.

If the Central Office statement was a kind of overture to the Hazimis, the next statement, the memorandum by the Delegated Committee from May 17, 2017, was even more so. Titled “That Those Who Perish Might Perish by a Clear Sign, and [That Those Who] Live Might Live by a Clear Sign” (a quotation of Q. 8:42), it was addressed “to all the provinces, departments, and committees.” While the memorandum condemned “the extremists” who adopt the “innovative” idea of al-takfir bi’l-tasalsul, the bulk of its venom was reserved for “the postponers.” The latter are those who refuse to acknowledge takfir as “one of the unambiguous foundations of the religion” and so exhibit undue hesitation in excommunicating “the polytheists.” The final three pages of the memorandum counsel obedience to those in authority. The statement was styled “an important memorandum” in a summary published by al-Naba’ in late May and by Rumiyah in early June.

The Bin‘alis strike back—and are struck

Turki al-Bin‘ali and his allies wasted little time in responding. On May 19, al-Bin‘ali addressed a long letter to the Delegated Committee with his critical “observations” of the memorandum. The letter appeared online in late June. While maintaining a mostly respectful tone, al-Bin‘ali complained bitterly that the memorandum was issued in undue haste, not having been subjected to the scrutiny of “the scholars.” This was in stark contrast to the way in which the Central Office’s statement had been carefully crafted with the input of multiple scholars, including himself. The man who organized that earlier statement, he noted, was Abu Muhammad al-Furqan, the Islamic State’s media chief who was killed in an airstrike in September 2016.

Some of al-Bin‘ali’s criticisms were trivial or pedantic—the new statement contained typographical and grammatical errors, and it relied on a few weak hadith—but his main objections were substantial. Everyone is agreed, he said, that the memorandum was intended to appease “the extremists,” i.e., the Hazimis. The extremists were celebrating that “the Islamic State had repented and returned to the truth,” since the memorandum declared takfir to be “one of the unambiguous foundations of the religion.” For al-Bin‘ali, the implication of this phrase was without question takfir in infinite regress. Another concession to the extremists was a line to the effect that professed Muslims beyond the Islamic State’s territory are not necessarily to be regarded as Muslims. What “most people” have taken away from this line, al-Bin‘ali regretted, is that “the Islamic State excommunicates everyone outside its borders.” He then quoted several earlier speeches by Islamic State leaders seemingly contradicting this position. The letter closes with an appeal to the Delegated Committee to revise and correct what it has written. As noted above, al-Bin‘ali was killed on May 31.

On May 23, Abu ‘Abd al-Barr al-Salihi, a Kuwaiti-born Islamic State scholar of lesser renown, had written his own refutation of the memorandum, reiterating many of the points raised by al-Bin‘ali. He likewise lamented the fact that it “has pleased the extremists,” advising the Delegated Committee to withdraw the memo “in its entirety.” According to news reports, al-Salihi was imprisoned for his dissent, and ultimately died, like al-Bin‘ali, in an airstrike.

Next up was an even more obscure author, the Saudi Abu ‘Uthman al-Najdi, who denounced the memorandum in a brief essay. He urged the Delegated Committee to make a retraction, saying, “I am quit before God of this memorandum.” In late June, Khabbab al-Jazrawi, another Saudi describing himself as within borders of the Islamic State, wrote a refutation accusing the Delegated Committee of engaging in “ideological terrorism”: marginalizing, imprisoning, and threatening “the scholars.” He paid tribute to al-Bin‘ali and al-Salihi, whose blood, he said, had been spilt in defense of the truth.

“Shock therapy”

It was not until July and August that there appeared another batch of refutations by Islamic State scholars, these directed against not only the Delegated Committee’s memorandum but also the leadership of the caliphate more generally. The picture that they paint is of a group in utter disarray.

The first of these refutations was written in Mayadin, Syria by a shari‘a official named Abu Muhammad al-Husayni al-Hashimi, a Saudi of Syrian origin. Dated July 5 and titled “The Hashimi Advice to the Emir of the Islamic State,” it takes the form of a letter to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, on whom the author pours out his anger and frustration. The caliphate, he says, “is being eaten up region by region … Those who once feared us are now raiding us, and those who used to flee us, our soldiers now flee them.” The Islamic State has become “an entity in which innovations and extremism have spread,” and in which “the most important positions” are occupied by oppressive and impious men allied to the “Kharijites,” meaning the Hazimis. “O ‘caliph,’” he says, “you are looking on and you are powerless to do anything.” “O ‘caliph,’ where is ‘the prophetic methodology’ in the balance of what has gone before? If it is a caliphate, then certainly it is not a caliphate of the Muhammadan message; it is the farthest thing from the prophetic methodology.” If there is “harshness” in these words, he writes, it is because “the sick patient” is in need of “shock therapy.” Al-Hashimi does not shrink from naming names. There is, for example, ‘Abd al-Nasir (“may God damn him”), the one-time Iraqi head of the Delegated Committee (“may God damn it and curse it”), who put his stamp on the dreadful memorandum; and Abu Hafs al-Jazrawi, a Saudi in the security apparatus who is repeatedly condemned (“may God spread hellfire out for him as a resting place”).

Al-Hashimi reveals that he used to work in the Office of Research and Studies under al-Bin‘ali and his deputy, Abu Muhammad al-Azdi. There he witnessed first-hand its devaluation from department to council to office, and the corresponding decline of its influence in the face of the ever-greater concentration of power in the hands of the Delegated Committee. The latter was waging war on “the scholars,” which was to say al-Bin‘ali and his allies. Al-Bin‘ali’s death, he muses, was no accident: al-Bin‘ali and the other scholars who opposed the memorandum were arranged to die in airstrikes, their coordinates being leaked to “the crusaders.” “Perhaps [the Delegated Committee] has killed some of them and said, ‘the planes of the Crusaders.’” Al-Hashimi also speculates that al-Salihi, along with “more than sixty” of his supporters, perished in this way. Arrested in late June, they were confined to an old prison subsequently obliterated in an airstrike. All of these concerns, he says, are shared by a great many others in the Islamic State. “If you wish, I could name for you more than 30 scholars and judges, all of whom would speak in favor of what I have written or of part of it.”

One of al-Hashimi’s allies was the forenamed Khabbab al-Jazrawi, who in mid-August released a statement on the death of Abu Bakr al-Qahtani. Al-Qahtani, a Saudi scholar in the Islamic State known for his strong opposition to the Hazimis (see his hours-long debate with them on takfir), was himself reportedly killed in an airstrike on August 11. The “murky circumstances” of his death reminded al-Jazrawi of the way that al-Bin‘ali was killed.

Al-Jazrawi goes on in this statement to explain the rise of those he calls the Kharijites. While a few years ago they seemed to have been subdued, it was in reality only one group of them, that led by Abu Ja‘far al-Hattab, that had been put down, and this for excommunicating the caliph and attempting to rebel. It was not for their “extremism” that they were persecuted, but rather for the threat that they posed to the caliphate’s security. This episode notwithstanding, the Delegated Committee sensed that the Hazimis enjoyed considerable popular support, and so drew close to them as a means of protecting itself. “The [Islamic] State started to treat the Kharijites favorably … and [ultimately] adopted the Kharijites’ doctrine in order to hold on to power and out of fear that the Kharijites would turn on them.”

At the end of August, another Islamic State scholar gave voice to the concerns of al-Hashimi and al-Jazrawi in a lengthy statement. This was an open letter addressed by Abu ‘Abd al-Malik al-Shami, in Deir al-Zor, “to all those who care about the caliphate and the establishing of God’s law on earth.” The letter is titled “Sighs from the State of Oppression,” which sets the tone for what follows. Al-Shami, about whom no information seems to be available, describes the current state of affairs in the Islamic State as “a true nightmare threatening to annihilate us.” Events have moved quickly, with one city being lost after another, and now “all that we have left is a small piece of land encompassing Mayadin, al-Bukamal, and some of the villages between them.” The causes of all this misfortune are many, in his estimation, but three in particular: (1) an elite caste of traitorous evil-doers dominating the Islamic State’s leadership; (2) the “Hazimi extremists” protected and empowered by these evil-doers; and (3) a lying and deceitful media constantly reassuring us that all is well.

The caliph, he says, has been out of the picture for some time, the all-powerful Delegated Committee calling the shots in his absence. After Abu Muhammad al-‘Adnani and then Abu Muhammad al-Furqan, its leader was the Iraqi ‘Abd al-Nasir, who gave even more support to the extremists than his predecessors. Al-Furqan, he claims, had set up the Central Office for Overseeing the Shar‘ia Departments “in order to please the extremists”; al-Bin‘ali had raised objections to its statement on takfir (no. 155), but al-Furqan had reassured him. Later, ‘Abd al-Nasir, during his tenure, established something called the Office for Methodological Inquiry (Maktab al-Tadqiq al-Manhaji)—al-Bin‘ali refers to this in his letter as the Council on Methodology (al-Lajna al-Manhajiyya)—the purpose of which was to enforce ideological purity by investigating those accused of holding moderate beliefs. It was a bastion of Hazimis. Then came “the great calamity,” the Delegated Committee’s memorandum, which was intended to affirm “some of the doctrines of the extremists,” and which rightly provoked a backlash.

Al-Shami mentions the refutations by al-Bin‘ali, al-Salihi, al-Najdi, and al-Jazrawi, all of whom, he says, were killed or persecuted after speaking out. The extremists, according to al-Shami, are primarily Tunisians and Egyptians, but also Saudis, Azerbaijanis, and Turks. Indulging in some conspiracy theories, he surmises that the Saudi government dispatched al-Hazimi to Tunisia in order to corrupt the minds of young jihadis who would later emigrate to Iraq and Syria. He also considers the leadership of the Islamic State to have been penetrated by the spies of regional intelligence services working on behalf of the Hazimis.

The media, meanwhile, “is hiding from [the mujahidin] news of losses and withdrawals,” all the while enchanting them with outrageous fantasies and illusions. One such illusion is the claim that we are living in end times, that “this state is the one that will conquer Istanbul and then Rome, and that one of its caliphs will be the one to hand over the banner to the mahdi or to Jesus.” Such talk, says al-Shami, is completely unwarranted. “The establishment of a caliphate does not necessarily mean that we are the ones who will fight in Dabiq, and that we are the ones who will conquer Rome, etc.” Two other illusions are the comparison between the Islamic State today and the early Muslims during the Battle of the Trench, in which the Prophet and his companions prevailed over an extend siege by their enemies, and the suggestion that the Islamic State can somehow “retreat to the desert,” recover its strength, and reconquer everything it has lost. There can be no “state” without territory, he insists.

Al-Shami ends his letter with an appeal to “my mujahidin brothers” to demand that the caliph step forward, state his views clearly on what has happened, and dissolve the corrupt Delegated Committee. “The only one who can put an end to this catastrophe is the caliph.” Yet al-Shami is not hopeful. Expecting to die soon, he writes that perhaps future generations of jihadis can learn from the experience that he has recorded here.

“Returning to the truth”

On September 15, the Delegated Committee put out a new memorandum addressed “to all the provinces, departments, and councils” rescinding the earlier one of May 17. “Observance of the content of the memorandum titled ‘That Those Who Perish Might Perish by a Clear Sign’ … has been annulled … on account of its containing errors of knowledge and misleading and unreliable statements that have given rise to disagreement and division in the ranks of the mujahidin in particular, and the Muslims in general.” The memorandum also reauthorized two books by al-Bin‘ali’s Office of Research and Studies that had been withdrawn by the Delegated Committee in early July. Finally, it reminded its readers of “the virtue of returning to the truth,” a phrase that would be the title of an article in the next issue of al-Naba’. The Bin‘alis seemed to be back on top. What had prompted the reversal?

In early September, there were rumors that Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi had returned to the scene after an extended absence; in doing so, he had come down hard on the Hazimis, detaining many of them, including two of their leaders, Abu Hafs al-Jazrawi and Abu Maram al-Jaza’iri. Following the September 15 memo, Arabic news outlets corroborated those rumors, telling of Baghdadi’s retaking the reins, his sacking of the Hazimis and their supporters, and his appointment of Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Shami, a veteran Islamic State scholar, to the Delegated Committee (perhaps as its leader). Al-Shami was also assigned the role of clarifying the group’s official doctrine on issues of takfir, which he soon did in a series of audio statements (see here, here, here, and here). In the series, al-Shami denounces the Hazimis in all but name, rejecting takfir al-‘adhir on the grounds that takfir is not part of the “foundation of the religion” (asl al-din) but rather only one of “the requirements of the religion” (wajibat al-din). The general effect of this distinction is to diminish the primacy of takfir, creating room for disagreement on such matters as al-‘udhr bi’l-jahl.

For the Bin‘alis, there is poetic justice in Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Shami’s selection for this role. Not only was he known as a major opponent of the Hazimis; he was, not long ago, investigated by the Office of Methodological Inquiry and imprisoned for his insufficiently extreme views. A three-hour recording of one of his sessions with the Office of Methodological Inquiry was recently made available on Telegram (see here and here). Throughout the interview, the investigators, led by Abu Maram al-Jaza’iri, rudely address al-Shami as Abu Fulan (i.e., “Abu Somebody,” “Abu So-and-So”), and al-Shami repeatedly corrects them, demanding respect: “I am not Abu Somebody. I am Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman … I am Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Shami … I have been a judge with this community since 2005. I am not new.” Indeed, al-Shami is also known as Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Zarqawi, on account of his close ties to the former leader of al-Qaida in Iraq. While he seems to have kept a mostly low profile in the organization, he is known as the author of a lengthy rejoinder to Abu Qadata al-Filastini’s criticism of the Islamic State back in 2015.

With Baghdadi having reasserted his authority and al-Shami in charge of religious affairs, the question now is whether the Bin‘ali-Hazimi divide has finally been overcome, or whether it has simply been swept under the rug. Whatever the case, it is clear from the foregoing that the discontent in the Islamic State goes well beyond the issue of takfir. There is frustration with a corrupt administration, a dishonest media, unmet prophecies, and, most of all, interminable territorial defeat. Whether the Islamic State can manage to keep its theological house in order may be the difference between survival and implosion.

The Video of Anis Amri, the Berlin Christmas market attacker

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Via Telegram channels operated by IS, the Amaq Agency released a brief video featuring Anis Amri (his name is in Arabic Anis ‘Amari) pledging allegiance to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and vowing for more revenge operations. The video is entitled “testimony of the soldier of the Islamic State who undertook the attacks in Berlin and Milano”, dated to December 23, 2016.
He appears to be standing on pedestrian bridge in Berlin where he filmed himself using is cell phone and headphones. The somewhat three minute long video is a brief but firm statement that he has submitted himself under the authority of IS and the application of sharia rule by the “state”, presented often by sympathizers and propagandists as “proof” of the IS’ theological coherence and sincerity.
Amri cites several theological references justifying revenge for the suffering imposed on Muslims, pledging that we shall drink from the same cup of pain, a popular reference within jihadist writings, statements and videos, while calling on Muslims worldwide to respond to actions, to strike everywhere especially in Europe. “Jihad against the enemies of God” is a divine obligation. He ends the video in a sermon styled supplication.

Jabhat al-Nusra’s Rebranding in the Eyes of the Islamic State

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When Abu Muhammad al-Jawlani, the leader of al-Qaida’s Syrian affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra, announced on July 28, 2016 that he was dissolving his group and setting up a new one, Jabhat Fath al-Sham (JFS, “the Front for the Conquest of Sham”), that would not be subordinate to al-Qaida, he put to rest more than a year of speculation that such a move was in the offing. Jabhat al-Nusra had been, after all, prepared to end its formal relationship with al-Qaida. But in settling one question Jawlani raised two more: Was Jabhat al-Nusra (now JFS) really distancing itself from the terrorist organization? And had al-Qaida leader Ayman al-Zawahiri really given this separation (real or nominal) his blessing?

The first question is perhaps best left to governments and journalists, but there is at least one reason to see the rebranding as more than superficial. This is that Jawlani’s maneuver alienated a number of prominent Jabhat al-Nusra hardliners who have yet to join JFS. (One rumor puts the number of these “defectors” at well over a hundred.) Presumably these men felt that joining JFS would amount to endorsing an excessively moderate and inclusive political vision.

The second question, whether Zawahiri blessed this rebranding, also remains open. To be sure, Jabhat al-Nusra and al-Qaida portrayed the move as having al-Qaida’s support—as an amicable separation. But the Islamic State has begged to differ. The true story, in its view, is that the “traitor” Jawlani struck again: having betrayed Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and the Islamic State back in 2013, he turned on Zawahiri and al-Qaida in 2016. Such a view should perhaps be viewed with skepticism, but it also deserves consideration. Understanding both sides of the story requires first revisiting some of the words of Zawahiri that are key to both narratives.

Zawahiri’s mixed message

On May 8, 2016, al-Qaida’s official al-Sahab Media Foundation issued an audio statement from Zawahiri concerning the war in Syria. Coming to the issue of Jabhat al-Nusra’s relationship with al-Qaida, Zawahiri delivered a most mixed message. That it was mixed is shown by the contradictory headlines it generated. “Zawahiri: Syria’s Nusra Free to Break al-Qaeda Links” was the title of an al-Jazeera English article. “Zawahiri Warns Nusra against Separating from al-Qaida” was the title of an article in an Arabic newspaper. Evidently, what the al-Qaida leader had said was unclear.

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