Much of the secondary literature in the West depicts Professor Ghulam Niazi as the progenitor of the mujahidin movement in Afghanistan in the 1960s. For a variety of reasons this contradicts primary sources that focus more on the various resistance efforts elsewhere in Afghanistan during this period. Of course, the primary sources are also influenced by the political projects of their authors.

Take, for example, the case of Yunis Khalis. Khalis’s biographers are more interested in a narrative that gives their subject a prominent role in the fight against the Soviets than they are in writing about the creation of an Afghan Islamist movement initiated by Professor Niazi at Kabul University. On the other hand, the two mujahidin parties that trace their founding mythology directly to Professor Niazi (Hizb-e Islami (Gulbuddin) and Jami’at-e Islami) have also been remarkably successful at setting the terms of the historical debate about the origins of the Afghan mujahidin. So it should be no surprise that the Khalis literature reflects the importance of the political gatherings hosted by Yunis Khalis and other eastern ‘ulama, while the material linked to the Kabul Islamists emphasizes Professor Niazi.

It may be decades before it is possible to untangle the accounts that have already been published by eye witnesses to this chaotic period of Afghan history; so many of the principal actors have died that we will probably never know the full story. But while it is too early to offer a full depiction of the resistance activities in Nangarhar in the years before 1979, my recent research on the biographies of Yunis Khalis has given me some unexpected insight into the kinds of political discussions that were taking place in eastern Afghanistan before the mujahidin parties had fully formed. While Khalis did not take a major leadership role in the early days of the resistance movement, he was active in a variety of circles and led many discussion groups with students and others about political and religious issues. These meetings were generally much less public or contentious than the sometimes raucous activities organized by the Muslim Youth, but they were not without their own controversy.

At one such gathering at Nangarhar University in 1349/1970, a doctor (or medical school student–Khalis’s biographer Din Muhammad equivocates) spoke out on an issue that apparently touched one of Khalis’s nerves. According to Din Muhammad the doctor said that “Mullahs are up to no good when they preach against money or they teach children; they must not take money or a salary (Din Muhammad 2007, 32).” Although we do not get a full picture of this doctor or his argument, Khalis’s contemptuous response to him is fascinating and I include it here in its entirety:

I studied in private mosques, and I paid my own expenses for traveling to and fro for my education, and I worked in the mosques. There were very many students like me who did not even have full bellies, and we had no clothing, and we would go long distances barefoot to find teachers to educate us in the mountains. And you, the cost of your housing is paid, and you study in beautiful cultivated areas; to you living expenses have been given for passing the night in beautiful places. From among you doctors are made, and the national budget has decreased because of you, while nothing has been spent on me. Come, in the manner of a mullah I pledge to you that I take absolutely no money for being an imam, and I teach classes for children without such money. You, a doctor, come to me and pledge to me that you will write prescriptions for sick people without charge.  (Din Muhammad 2007, 32-33)

This argument at a gathering at Nangarhar University echoes a theme that Din Muhammad elaborates in his discussion of Yunis Khalis as a homeopathic healer: healers should serve the poor for no charge (Din Muhammad 2007, 224-226). Without having more information about other similar gatherings, it is hard to know the extent to which this discussion at Nangarhar University was typical. But even so, it reveals something about Khalis’s perception of himself, his own life story, and the role of social justice in his political ideology.

The critical importance of providing for the poor in the community is also discussed prominently in the context of Khalis’s decision to create a new housing development called Najm al-Jihad south of Jalalabad after the end of the Soviet-Afghan War (Din Muhammad 2007, 266-267). Din Muhammad explicitly states that the name for this neighborhood was chosen to reflect its connection to the famous Mullah of Hadda, also known as Najm al-Din Akhundzada. Today Khalis’s neighborhood is only a few kilometers west of the Mosque at Hadda, and future investigations may help to uncover whether Khalis’s connection to the famous Mullah of Hadda goes any deeper than his choice of a name for a housing development that was ostensibly designed in part for poor people, the disabled, and war widows.

The Khalis biographies should not be read as a coherent argument against Professor Niazi’s prominent position in the development of Afghan Islamism. However, they do offer important clues about the political activities of prominent ‘ulama in eastern Afghanistan in the 1970s who were only peripherally involved in the Kabul Islamist movement. In the process of depicting these largely informal discussion groups and gatherings, Din Muhammad goes out of his way to stress the critical role that social justice played in Khalis’s politics. Any serious conversation about the history of the Afghan mujahidin will always have to account for the better known activities of Professor Niazi’s protégés in the Muslim Youth and Jami’at-e Islami.

However, this story of Khalis’s argument with a doctor at Nangarhar University in 1349/1970 is a helpful reminder that the relatively cosmopolitan scene at Kabul University was not the only important site of political contention in Afghanistan in the 1960s and 1970s. It is too early to say who attended these kinds of gatherings in Nangarhar or what significance this participation may have had for the later development of the mujahidin movement, but as more sources are published these kinds of investigations promise to show us a much richer picture of the early days of the anti-leftist political resistance in eastern Afghanistan.

A Jihadi Homeopath

Posted: 4th December 2012 by Kevin in Afghanistan, Jihad culture, Pakistan
Tags: ,

[Editor's note: We are very pleased to welcome Kevin Bell to Jihadica. Kevin has lived in Afghanistan and Tajikistan for a number of years and recently wrote a master's thesis on Yunis Khalis for Princeton's Near Eastern Studies Department. He's hunting for a job in Afghanistan--probably not for long given his proficiency in Pashto. You can follow him on Twitter @allegorycave]

Yunis Khalis is best known for his role as the leader of the Hizb-e Islami (Khalis) mujahidin political party, and as a host to Osama bin Laden in 1996 in Jalalabad. However, even a cursory review of the various Khalis biographies written in Pashto reveals that there was far more to his life, interests, and influence on Afghan politics than might be indicated by a discussion limited to his role as a jihadi leader.

I extensively discuss many of these new perspectives about Khalis in my forthcoming report from the Combating Terrorism Center, but some of the most interesting episodes from the biographical literature are unfortunately not included in that study. The most fascinating and unexpected of these is Din Muhammad’s account of Yunis Khalis’s “medical practice” as a homeopathic healer.
Din Muhammad begins by pointing out that Yunis Khalis’s curriculum as a madrasa student in pre-partition India included exposure to Greek medical texts, but Khalis’s real introduction to the theory and practice of medicine began after he went into exile in Pakistan in 1974. Shortly after Khalis arrived in Pakistan he spent some time living in the home of Mawlawi Salim in Kurram Agency. Mawlawi Salim was already an established medical practitioner who wrote books about homeopathic healing in Urdu from his home. Khalis spent some time perusing these and asking Salim questions about the more challenging parts of the text before he traveled to Peshawar where the majority of the mujahidin leadership then resided. By this time Khalis had acquired enough knowledge to begin his own research and he began to practice homeopathy independently after buying some books and medicines from the bazaar in Peshawar.

In order to substantiate his account of Khalis’s knowledge of medicine, Din Muhammad eagerly recounts two incidents where he witnessed the effectiveness of Yunis Khalis as a healer. Although we immediately notice that the illnesses/wounds that Khalis heals in these two anecdotes are neither dramatic nor life threatening, Din Muhammad’s point is not that Khalis was a miracle worker. Once he establishes that Khalis actually understood something about medicine, Din Muhammad uses this to make a larger point about Khalis’s character: he was generous with his time, skills, and treasure, and he did not charge the poor for his services. This is a theme which Din Muhammad picks up elsewhere, such as in his account of the construction of Khalis’s new neighborhood of Najm al-Jihad south of Jalalabad for widows, orphans, and disabled mujahidin after the end of the Soviet Afghan War.
We are right to question the possible bias of authors like Din Muhammad who have such a clear personal connection to their subject matter. However, it is easy enough to argue that the state of our knowledge of Yunis Khalis is so poor that even accounts of him that are semi-hagiographical in nature deserve real attention. He is a key figure in the history of both the development of the Haqqani Network and the growth of the Eastern Shura (aka Jalalabad Shura) in the mid 1990s.

But ultimately, that has nothing to do with why I enjoyed reading this particular subsection of Din Muhammad’s biography. This account of Khalis as a homeopath reminds us that there are systems of knowledge and ways of approaching learning in the Afghan frontier that are both vital and important to local communities, and almost totally unanalyzed in the West. Considering that I have only scratched the surface of the extant primary source material about Yunis Khalis and other major Afghan mujahidin leaders, I expect that further study will reveal even more surprising and interesting addenda to our understanding of the history of Afghan Islamism.

As most readers of Jihadica will know, the famous Jordanian radical scholar Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi was arrested in September 2010 on suspicion of aiding terrorists and was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment in July 2011. Since then, however, we have rarely heard anything from the man often described as the most important radical Islamic scholar alive. As my current research focuses on quietist Salafis and the Muslim Brotherhood in Jordan, I regularly read Jordanian newspapers, which not only give us some idea of what is happening with al-Maqdisi, but also report on the Jihadi-Salafi community that he has left behind.

Hunger strike

For those who know something about al-Maqdisi’s earlier stays in prison, it is clear that these periods have often been some of the most productive ones in his entire life. He once even referred to the period 1994-1999 as the “blessed days”, as they allowed him to write many books, articles and fatwas. Since his earlier re-arrest in 2005 (released in 2008), however, very few of his writings have reached a wider audience while he was in prison. This is not to say that he was not engaged in putting his thoughts on paper, but just that he was apparently less successful in getting them out to the rest of the world.

His most recent stay in prison is also characterised by an almost complete black-out to the media and others. Almost, that is, since the Jordanian Islamist Al-Sabil newspaper reported on 9 November that al-Maqdisi sent them a letter from behind bars in which he told them of his threat to go on a hunger strike. Al-Sabil had reported this before and al-Maqdisi also sometimes took the same action during his previous stays in prison. The reason this time, according to al-Maqdisi’s letter, is that he wants to be transferred from the current prison in which he is staying in al-Mafraq (in the north of Jordan) to one closer to al-Rusayfa, where his family live, but the prison authorities are apparently not forthcoming in granting his request.

In his letter to Al-Sabil, al-Maqdisi also writes that life in prison has not been easy for him. On top of his assertion that he is innocent and therefore wrongly imprisoned and is withheld the support of a lawyer, he claims to suffer from back pains and also has a knee that hurts. The latter, al-Maqdisi states, was caused by an intelligence officer (described by him as the son of the current Jordanian Minister of Justice) who beat him there with the butt of his rifle. Meanwhile, the prison authorities refuse to give him the treatment he needs, al-Maqdisi claims, and – to his frustration – also offer him fruit on which the words “Produced in Israel” are written.

Al-Maqdisi’s Jordanian heirs

With al-Maqdisi apparently languishing in prison, it is interesting to see what the Jihadi-Salafi community he left behind is now doing. First of all, there is the question of leadership. While al-Maqdisi was clearly a scholar with a wide and international following, none of the remaining Jihadi-Salafi leaders seem able to fill his shoes in this respect. The movement’s current leaders include men such as Abu ‘Abdallah Luqman al-Riyalat, Nur al-Din Bayram and Abu Muhammad al-Tahawi. Although all three enjoy the respect of their local base in the cities of al-Salt, al-Zarqa’ and Irbid, respectively, none of them have the same scholarly credentials as al-Maqdisi and they are virtually unknown outside Jordan.

If the amount of media exposure is any guide to indicating who al-Maqdisi’s Jordanian temporary heirs are – until he is released from prison again, that is – the movement’s undisputed leaders are Muhammad al-Shalabi (better known as Abu Sayyaf) from Ma’an, in the south of Jordan, and especially the aforementioned Abu Muhammad al-Tahawi from the northern city of Irbid. The latter is obvious, since he was a prominent figure even when al-Maqdisi was still a free man and was on good terms with him. Abu Sayyaf is a different matter, however, since he was considered little more than a firebrand several years ago, but is now often called upon to comment on issues related to radical Islam.

Al-Maqdisi’s jihad

The Jihadi-Salafi movement led by the men mentioned above may have few scholars and even fewer high-profile activists, but al-Maqdisi left them some very clear ideas on why, when and how to wage jihad. As I point out in detail in my recently published book on al-Maqdisi, the most important reason to wage jihad according to the latter is to overthrow “apostate” rulers in the Muslim world, rather than defending Muslim land against non-Muslim invaders, although he certainly considers this legitimate too.

Even a legitimate jihad, however, should not be engaged in hastily and recklessly, but only if there is a real chance of succeeding. There is little use in jihadis simply acting as cannon fodder for their enemies, as al-Maqdisi once explained in the context of his opposition to youngsters going off to Iraq to fight the Americans there. Moreover, even if someone decides to join a jihad, this needs to be waged in a way that is legitimate from the point of view of the shari’a, meaning that the ends (victory over the enemy) do not always justify the means (beheadings, killing innocent civilians, etc.).

In short, it is necessary for all jihadis, al-Maqdisi believes, to think twice before they to run off to some war front; even in legitimate jihads, he wants them to join a proper organisation that fights under the banner of Islam so that their fighting efforts will be organised, effective and legitimate. Now that al-Maqdisi is not available to guide and correct his followers, however, how are they faring?

Fighting on two fronts?

The Jordanian Jihadi-Salafi movement seems to have been engaged in at least one jihad this year, namely the fight to overthrow the regime of President Bashar al-Asad in Syria. According to al-Tahawi, some 250 Jordanians are fighting the regime in Syria at the moment. Several of these were reported to have been killed, including – incidentally – al-Tahawi’s own son-in-law, and some of them have also been arrested after returning from Syria in increasing efforts by the Jordanian regime to crack down on border-crossing jihadis.

The second front – if there is one – is less clear. Although al-Tahawi proclaimed in late October that his movement “is determined to do a martyrdom operation in Israel”, little has come of such efforts in the past and the fact that such threats are published in the media seems to suggest that they are little more than empty rhetoric. More interesting is the arrest of eleven Jihadi-Salafis suspected of wanting to attack shopping centres and Western diplomatic targets in Amman in October. While much of the Jordanian press praised the security services for nabbing these men before they could do any damage, some took the trouble of asking Abu Muhammad al-Tahawi about his thoughts on the case. The latter rejected the regime’s accusations and stated that he believed they were innocent since his movement condemned killing other Muslims.

What would al-Maqdisi do?

It is unclear whether al-Tahawi’s claims should be taken at face value. Do the actions that we can be sure about (i.e., the Jordanians fighting in Syria) conform to al-Maqdisi’s jihadi preferences? Although it remains difficult to assess, al-Maqdisi’s focus on fighting “apostate rulers” most probably means that he agrees with a jihad against al-Asad, especially since the jihadis actually have a (long) shot at succeeding, particularly as no Western armies have entered the fray yet.

Al-Maqdisi would also look favourably on the Jihadi-Salafi groups set up in Syria itself, such as Jabhat al-Nusra li-Ahl al-Sham, which at least some Jordanians are said to have joined and which ensure that the jihad being waged is better organised and fought under a legitimate banner. Although he would definitely lament the fact that no true scholar has temporarily succeeded him to provide religious guidance to Jordanian jihadis, al-Maqdisi may well be quite satisfied with what his followers are doing.

 

I have to admit that it makes me feel rather uneasy choosing a title like this and writing a post about last week’s death of four staff members of the American embassy in Libya, including the ambassador himself, Christopher Stevens. Yesterday, however, a fatwa was published on the permissibility of killing ambassadors that I think Jihadica readers should know about.

Three questions

The fatwa, published by Abu l-Mundhir al-Shinqiti, is in response to three different questions by three different people. The first question deals with the permissibility of killing an ambassador who doesn’t approve of insults against Islam and has a positive attitude towards Muslims. For those readers thinking this is a direct reference to ambassador Stevens, who was apparently known for his affection for the Libyan people, think again. The person asking the question adds that he’s not talking about the American ambassador since “targeting American embassies in all corners of the world is permissible without them having insulted the Prophet”.

The second questioner wants to know if the post of ambassador can be compared with that of “messenger” (rasul), a job specified in Islamic law that is given to a representative of a non-Muslim country to bring a message to the rulers of the abode of Islam (dar al-Islam). Such a person was given some sort of aman (temporary protection) under Islamic law so that he could do his job safely. If there is indeed a parallel between a messenger and an ambassador, this could mean the latter is not allowed to be killed.

The third question is related to the second since it deals with the concept of ‘ahd (covenant). In the course of Islamic history, Muslim scholars have come up with ways to avoid calling all non-Muslim countries dar al-harb (the abode of war; i.e., those countries with which the Muslims are at least nominally at war). One of the alternatives they chose was dar al-’ahd (the abode of the covenant), denoting countries with which the Muslim empire has a treaty. Such countries, Islamic jurists held,  should not be attacked since their treaty with the Muslims forbade fighting between them. Some modern scholars have argued that a visa can be seen as a modern equivalent of such a covenant or treaty and that persons who hold a visa or are citizens of a non-Muslim country are not allowed to fight these countries. Similarly, this questioner wants to know whether the ambassador’s legal status in Libya should have protected him from being attacked.

Messenger or ambassador?

While al-Shinqiti refers to an earlier fatwa of his for the third question, he does answer the first two questions. He denies the existence of any direct references to ambassadors in the sacred texts and also disagrees that ambassadors are the modern-day equivalents of the messengers dealt with in Islamic law. To prove his point, al-Shinqiti lists three differences between the two jobs. Firstly, an ambassador is a representative of a state that has sent him to do a job, while a messenger is simply a person sent with a message and nothing more.

Secondly, and closely related to the first argument, an ambassador has a whole range of tasks that his government sets for him, which depend on the relationship between the two countries. A messenger, by contrast, only brings a message and that’s it, al-Shinqiti states.

Thirdly, an ambassador is only dispatched to a country with which his own country has friendly relations. If these relations sour, ambassadors are called home. Messengers, on the other hand, could be sent to another country no matter what its relations with Muslims were like – peaceful, hostile or subject to a truce – and are therefore incomparable to ambassadors.

War on Islam

Because of the supposed differences between messengers and ambassadors, al-Shinqiti rejects any parallels between them and thus dismisses the argument that non-Muslim ambassadors cannot be killed by Muslims. Al-Shinqiti seems to believe, however, that this whole question of whether ambassadors are modern-day messengers is entirely beside the point with regard to ambassador Stevens.

In recent days, I have explained several times to people my conviction that the riots currently going on in the Middle East should be seen in the broader context of a) the dire political and socio-economic situation many Arabs are in; and, especially, b) the alleged war on Islam that is supposedly being waged by Western countries, in which the film “Innocence of Muslims” is perceived by many as simply the latest attack. I believe that the attacks on the American embassies have very little to do with Muslims’ rejection of images of the Prophet Muhammad as such, as some media would have us believe, but should be ascribed to the more specific factors mentioned by Will within the context mentioned above. In other words, if the Middle East had been a free and nice place to live and relations with America had been strong and widely supported by the people, I believe the reception of this film would have been entirely different.

The importance of this context is underlined by al-Shinqiti’s fatwa, which states that ambassadors are not only incomparable to messengers, but even if they were, it wouldn’t apply to the American ambassador. This is because the inadmissibility of killing messengers depends on them not being spies whose presence and jobs are damaging to Muslims. American embassies, al-Shinqiti claims, are not like other embassies. The Americans try to increase their influence in Muslim countries, wage war on Islam and spread “the democratic religion”, he contends, and all of this is planned from inside the American embassies.

There is no legitimate need for the presence of American embassies in Muslim countries, al-Shinqiti believes. On the contrary, he states, relations with the United States should be severed. Al-Shinqiti claims America has killed more Muslims than Israel and while Muslim states are always arguing for cutting ties with the latter, they don’t do the same with the former and, in fact, even assist the United States in its war on Islam. American embassies are expressions of a country that is at war with Islam and, he maintains, should be treated as such.

The Film

Not only does it not make any difference whether the American ambassador can be seen as a messenger or not; al-Shinqiti also states that whether such a person agrees or disagrees with the film “The Innocence of Muslims” is irrelevant since the country as a whole is responsible for that. American ambassadors, even if they disagree with the film, do agree with the “killing of Muslims in Iraq and Afghanistan that their government is engaged in”, with “the occupation of the lands of Islam” and with “the plundering of the revolutions of the Muslim countries”.

Interestingly, al-Shinqiti states that American embassies are not the biggest insult to the Prophet. That role is ascribed by him to “the deserting opportunists who reject violence and want to help the Prophet with words, not deeds, like [the famous Egyptian Muslim scholar Yusuf] al-Qaradawi and [former head of the IAEA Mohammed] El Baradei and others”.

“Killing all American ambassadors and destroying all American embassies won’t quench our thirst for those who have attacked the sanctity of our Prophet”, al-Shinqiti states. Muslims should therefore not show sympathy for the American ambassador and the other diplomats killed in Libya, as many did, and neither should they call for non-violence, as other Muslim scholars have done. Instead, al-Shinqiti insists, the proper response to the film is “to attack [American] interests, to attack their security, to attack their existence and to attack their economy because this is the language they understand”.

Just so you know.

Yesterday, Ahmad ‘Ashush published a fatwa on the jihadist forums where he “decrees and calls on all Muslim youth in America and in Europa to fulfill this inescapable obligation. Namely, to kill the director, producer and the actors and anyone who helped to promote this film.” The fatwa was published by the relatively new al-Bayan media group that has established itself in the jihadist forums since the turmoil in Egypt. The media group acts in parallel to the al-Faruq media battalion, which has in the meantime published several videos showing Egyptian cleric Ahmad ‘Ashush with other renowned jihadist scholars in Tahrir, such as Muhammad al-Zawahiri or Marjan Salim (videos here and here). Ahmad ‘Ashush first surfaced in the al-Shumukh forum a while ago with a lengthy interview talking about the Hizb al-Nur (here) and established himself as an Islamic authority clearly adhering to the “jihadist torrent” while his – as of now – few writings are online over at al-Maqdisi’s Minbar al-Tawhid wa-l-Jihad website (here).

This fatwa, however, is not unique and certainly nothing new from ‘Ashush. In July, the German GIMF department (probably courtesy of Austrian-Egyptian leader Muhammad Mahmud, aka Abu Usamah al-Gharib) posted a German translations of ‘Ashush’s article “an outcry… Supporting our prophet” (German). This was a direct reaction by ‘Ashush to events in Germany demanding the death of those who insulted the prophet by showing the Danish Muhammad Cartoons, attacking both the German government as well as demanding the beheading of the defamers in Europe. A violent clash preceded ‘Ashush’s reaction when salafist-jihadists in Germany clashed with police in Bonn and Solingen in May this year. ‘Ashush wrote: “There are free youth among the Muslims, living in Europe, who became angry for the prophet. They went out to defend his honor. The Germans beat, humiliated and arrested them. So, where are you in support of them?”

The German-language propaganda departments had plenty of new materials and produced videos and published reaffirming translations justifying violence in support of the prophet. Again, GIMF published a German translation of al-Maqdisi’s writing “The Drawn Sword against those who Insult the Lord, the Religion or the Messenger of God” (Arabic and German). This is based on the historical writing of Ibn Taymiyya, available on al-Maqdisi’s site here.

The protests that turned violent were directed against a German ultra-rightwing minority party “PRO-NRW” who succeeded in instigating the German salafists by showing the Muhammad cartoons on billboards. With the police in the middle, the salafists counter-demonstration turned violent and led to many arrests. In a video entitled “In Reih und Glied standen sie für Rasulullah” (They stood in a single file for the messenger of God – here, note the Arabic opening nasheed) violence to defend the honor of the prophet is further justified and sanctioned, depicting the salafists as ‘true’ believers and real men. Shortly after, Abu Ibraheem (Yasin Chouka), one of the German propagandists of the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan called for the “death of Pro-NRW”, re-affirming the obligation to “kill those, who insult the prophet, no matter if they are Muslims or disbelievers.” (here)

Two similar writings of Ahmad ‘Ashush – the ‘Muhammad-movie-fatwa’

In his self-entitled fatwa yesterday, ‘Ashush repeats basic sentiments he had addressed as a response to the insult of the prophet in Germany. In both legal decrees, ‘Ashush cites the Qur’an (al-Ahzab: 6):

“The Prophet has a greater claim on the faithful than they have on themselves, and his wives are (as) their mothers.” (trans. by Shakir)

‘Ashush seeks to act as a high-profile ideologue, citing in length the hadith and drawing on Ibn Taymiyya. “Killing them [the movie affiliates] is a duty for every capable Muslim. The killing of the aforementioned is prescribed by Islamic law (…).” Stating two examples, Ka’b ibn al-Ashraf, a Jew, that Ibn Taymiyya in detail analyzed and a woman who had insulted the prophet, ‘Ashush makes his case clear that “the prophet had commanded the killing of al-Ashraf” as well as the killing of a woman, as stated later. For ‘Ashush this serves as proof that anyone “offending the prophet, even Muslims, are sentenced to death for this.” Independent of Muslim or non-Muslim, man or woman, the blood of those insulting Muhammad must be shed. “For this is the ruling of the prophet”. ‘Ashush recounts the hadith of a female companion who on the account of a blind man insulted Muhammad and was subsequently put to death for her insults. The blind man had been her husband and he was the one who had killed her with his knife. He then stated to Muhammad the reason: “o messenger of God, I am her husband and she insulted you often (…) yesterday she insulted you and I took a knife and stabbed her in her stomach (…). The messenger replied: “so then witness her blood shed”".
This hadith, for ‘Ashush, provides enough argumentation to oblige Muslims to act accordingly, listing four key arguments:

  1. As the man had been blind and a companion of the prophet most aware of the shari’a, the woman insulting the prophet had been killed. She had been his wife, killed by him.
  2. Referring to the citation of the Qur’an, the prophet has a greater claim on the faithful than anyone else – even if this woman has children, or is the wife of a companion, she must be executed for her insult.
  3. This accounts for no matter what standing of position her children have;
  4. Or her position being a companion of the prophet, being in his service. “Killing her for insulting the prophet is pleasing for God, the Lord of the Worlds.”

Following a typical jihadist rhetoric, ‘Ashush repeats his statements of his writing in response to the insulting of the prophet in Germany, asking where the true scholars of Islam are, refuting the ‘state-owned’ ‘ulama’.


US Embassy Protests

Posted: 14th September 2012 by Will McCants in Uncategorized

Update 9/21/2012: Here’s a Foreign Affairs essay I wrote about the roll of Salafis in the riots.

Below are some thoughts I shared with a friend this morning who asked about the protests. I had to edit one pretty heavily in light of the events of the past few hours, and I’m sure I’ll have to revise them again in the coming weeks given how confusing everything is right now. If I’ve made any egregious errors in well-established facts, please let me know here or on twitter and I’ll update it.

1.     Who’s behind the film? A Coptic Christian living in California who claimed to be an Israeli-American. Other Coptic Christians living in the US promoted the film on their Arabic websites and also enlisted the support of Terry Jones (ie Qur’an burner).

2.     How did the film get to the Arab world? An Egyptian channel supervised by a Salafi cleric (Muhammad al-Zughbi) was the first to broadcast clips of the obscure film, which it likely obtained from YouTube. The Egyptian commentators on the news channel seem to be Islamists of the Muslim Brotherhood variety, if we can stereotype from appearances (short, full beards, suits and ties). I was told by a reporter that the host, Shaykh Khalid Abdullah, caters to Salafis (ie Sunni puritans). Consider him the equivalent of the usual Fox news commentators, finding obscure insults to their religion to fire up their conservative viewers.

3.     Who’s behind the protests? It’s not clear yet who organized them but Salafis and Ikhwanis in Egypt seem to have fanned the flames. Soccer hooligans and anarchists were also in the mix. Once news of their protests made it to twitter, facebook and satellite TV, it was only a matter of time before they spread.

4.     Who will be targeted for retaliation? Copts are going to be a major target in Egypt, and anyone associated with the production of this film in the US is likely going to be targeted by Islamist terrorist organizations. Perhaps Israelis will be targeted too if it doesn’t get out that the director lied about his Israeli identity. YouTube/Google might also be targeted for carrying the film clips. As for the attacks on the US embassies, the protesters blame the United States for the film because many Arabs don’t understand how we treat free speech; they believe we have the power to censor films as is done in Arab countries or proscribe them with hate speech laws like those in Europe.

5.     Is this just about the film? The film was the trigger, and most of those protesting are furious about it, whether they’ve seen it or not. Sabb al-nabi (insulting the Prophet) is bad, bad stuff in classical Islamic law (it’ll get you killed). But there are other things at play too, like public discontent with the slow pace of reforms and prominent officials and firebrands stirring the pot out of conviction or for more cynical reasons.

6.     What’s al-Qaeda going to do? This is a major win for AQ. Protesters (some unwittingly it seems) are flying the AQ flag (specifically the Islamic State of Iraq’s flag) as _the_ flag of protest. Jihadis everywhere are celebrating this symbolic victory. If AQ was also involved in the killing of the ambassador, it’s a major operational victory. The fact that they are now shaping events in the more stable Arab Spring countries, in addition to their prominent profiles in the Yemeni and Syrian insurgencies, is a huge shot in the arm for the jihadi movement. They will try to capitalize on the Muhammad film by vowing to undertake revenge attacks on those responsible for its distribution. They will certainly blame the United States and perhaps Google/YouTube for not shutting it down.

7.     What does this all mean going forward? If we’ve learned one thing during the Arab Spring, it’s the demonstration effect of large protests. People in the Arab world have now seen that the US embassies can be targeted with impunity for slights to Muhammad originating in the United States. There will certainly be more slights because “anti-jihad” Christian extremists in the United States and Europe will be all too happy to stir the pot, particularly after they’ve seen what can be achieved with such a shabby film.  That being the case, we can expect more protests like these. New Islamist governments like the one in Egypt will have to be careful how they thread the needle. They have to strongly condemn known insults to Muhammad, and they can’t afford to curtail popular anger too much lest it be turned on them. But they’ve also got to be careful about alienating the United States.

8.     Is there a silver lining? The reaction of Libyan citizens to the US ambassador’s death was pretty remarkable. Perhaps citizens in other countries will be moved to demonstrate similar solidarity with Americans against religious extremism of all stripes. Moreover, Obama’s unscripted, not-an-ally statement got positive results out of Egypt. I’d love to see more of the same to remind the more belligerent of the new governments that they should not take US support for granted.

What’s in a Name? A Jihadi Labels Himself

Posted: 11th September 2012 by Joas Wagemakers in Ideological trends

As all academics know, defining the subject you study is very important and often complicated. This is obviously no different in the study of jihadis, where terms such as “radical Muslims”, “Muslim extremists”, “Jihadi-Salafis”, “takfiris” and even “Islamo-fascists” are often used to describe Muslims engaging in violence against others. Such terms are based on criteria set by outsiders, sometimes resulting in terms that are crude, imprecise and/or used to describe people who strongly differ from one another.

Others take the approach of simply listening to what the people that one’s research focuses on – in this case jihadis – call themselves. This often yields widely divergent and biased answers that are frequently ill-suited to be used by academics. Terms such as “Muslims”, “mujahidun” and “ahl al-Sunna wa-l-jama’a“, for example, are rather general and, more importantly, are also claimed by Muslims who have nothing to do with al-Qa’ida whatsoever.

Defining one’s subject of research is thus often quite difficult. The fact that asking jihadis – for lack of a better term – to define themselves often yields unsatisfactory answers does not mean, however, that it is not interesting to listen to what they say. An example of a radical Muslim scholar who recently tried to provide an answer to the question “Who are we?” is Abu l-Mundhir al-Shinqiti, the Mauritanian shaykh who seems to be running the Shari’a Forum of the Minbar al-Tawhid wa-l-Jihad – originally a collective effort by about a dozen scholars – entirely on his own these days.

Unity

Al-Shinqiti’s starting point is that Islam is one and that the jihadis he is addressing should stand together against “the enemies”, which they are apparently not doing now, according to him. Although it is clear that Abu l-Mundhir believes jihad is legitimate, both against non-Muslim invaders and “apostate” rulers in the Muslim world, unity should not be limited to fighting but should encompass every aspect of Islam and he cites many a hadith to make his case.

If jihadis came together to practise their religion as one, al-Shinqiti states, they should also have one name to describe themselves. This name should reflect the fact that jihadis strive for the application of the Shari’a, as well as their desire to fulfill the obligations of Islam. What name could possibly cover this?

The alternatives

An name that al-Shinqiti briefly considers is “Salafis”. He states that several names are applied to jihadis that lead to a misrepresentation of who they are, and “Salafis” is one of them. Sure, Abu l-Mundhir writes, we are Salafis, but that label has come to be associated with people who do not wage jihad, help “apostate” rulers and take part in democracy. These are obviously characteristics that al-Shinqiti wants to avoid and therefore he dismisses “Salafis” as a good name.

What about the label “Jihadi-Salafis” then? Doesn’t this distinguish them from other Salafis? Al-Shinqiti answers this question in the affirmative but nevertheless objects to the term because to him it suggests that Jihadi-Salafis only engage in jihad. This is not correct, he maintains, since other activities such as the propagation of Islam (da’wa) also play a role.

The name to end all names

The name that al-Shinqiti comes up with to cover exactly what he wants is “Ansar al-Shari’a” (“helpers/protectors of the Shari’a”), a name reminiscent of, but not necessarily connected with, the Yemeni militant group of the same name. (As I pointed out before, al-Shinqiti supports this group and has defended it against criticism.) The name undoubtedly also reminds Muslims of the original ansar in Islamic history: the believers from Medina who accepted the Prophet Muhammad as their leader and helped him in his battles with Meccan polytheists.

This name is so good, al-Shinqiti writes, because “it describes what is considered the goal and the end that the upholders of the unity of God unite for” and serves as “a title, a banner and a goal at the same time”. Unlike terms such as “Salafism” and “Jihadi-Salafism”, Abu l-Mundhir states, “Ansar al-Shari’a” cannot be criticised since “who can refuse and reject it? Who can be against it?” Anybody who is serious about fulfilling the obligations of Islam cannot feel different about this, he maintains.

A bigger goal

As interesting as this labelling business may be, al-Shinqiti seems to have a bigger goal in mind. He calls on like-minded Muslims to set up da’wa groups in their own countries and to call them “Ansar al-Shari’a”. These groups should unite and become one group. They should focus on studying “useful knowledge”, spreading the right creed and correcting wrong ideas and misconceptions. They should obviously call for the application of the Shari’a and reject democracy and “man-made laws” and try to motivate others to join them, thereby working to transform public opinion into one that is supportive of applying the Shari’a but rejects Western ideas.

Such goals – to be achieved through means such as sermons, lessons, spreading writings, etcetera – will unite these groups “around one goal and around one project”, will make their leadership more prominent and will take them away from “reckless action that scatters power and wastes energy”, among other things. This way, the Shari’a might be applied through legitimate means instead of through democracy.

This last argument suggests that al-Shinqiti partly responding to Salafi groups in Egypt and elsewhere that are now trying to achieve their goals through elections and parliamentary participation. This is probably true. His emphasis on unity, learning the right knowledge, da’wa, collective efforts and the inadmissibility of recklessness in action probably hint at something else, however, namely his more long-term efforts to achieve these goals for the jihadi movement. As I have argued elsewhere, uniting and correcting jihadis and making them more effective in their actions was probably the main reason why the Shari’a Council of the Minbar al-Tawhid wa-l-Jihad was founded several years ago. Al-Shinqiti’s attempts to label them all as “Ansar al-Shari’a” seems to be part of this bigger goal.

Now let’s just see if the name catches on.

Al-Qaida Advises the Arab Spring: Abu Basir’s Scrapbook

Posted: 28th July 2012 by Joas Wagemakers in Syria

In my previous posts on al-Qaida scholars advising the Arab Spring (here, here, here and here), we have frequently come across the Syrian-British Abu Basir al-Tartusi. His advice to the people of the Arab world trying to overthrow their dictators has often been at odds with that of his fellow radical ideologues, as we have seen, since Abu Basir frequently encourages fighters to be lenient with others or even scolds them for using violent methods too recklessly. As we saw in my previous post on Yemen, other scholars have criticised Abu Basir for this. Similarly, when Abu Basir published a fatwa on his website in February in which he expressed support for the (non-Islamist) Free Syrian Army fighting against the regime of Syrian President Bashar al-Asad and not for the much more overtly Islamic Jabhat Nusrat al-Sham, he was criticised for this by Abu l-Mundhir al-Shinqiti on the Shari’a Forum of the Minbar al-Tawhid wa-l-Jihad. In a fatwa of his own, al-Shinqiti states that Abu Basir’s endorsement of the Free Syrian Army, with its “democratic method” and his simultaneous criticism of a group that strives for “the implementation of the Islamic shari’a” shows that Abu Basir “has a major methodological shortcoming”. (For more on this issue, see this article).

Commitment

Despite Abu Basir’s tendency to state things differently from his colleagues, nobody seems to question his commitment to the cause of the Arab Spring, particularly in his native Syria. He has written numerous articles and fatwas about the revolts in the Arab world and has even gone to Syria himself to support the people there, as others have pointed out (see here, for example). Moreover, Abu Basir’s nephew is said to “have achieved martyrdom” in Syria earlier this month and al-Tartusi himself has long been involved with the Facebook page “The Islamic Opposition to the Syrian Regime”, which shows some photographs of him, including one in which he is holding a gun, suggesting that he’s actually out there fighting the regime.

Perhaps Abu Basir’s most extensive sign of his commitment to the Arab Spring is his almost 500-pages long scrapbook on everything related to the revolutions in the Middle East. Entitled “The Scrapbook of the Revolution and the Revolutionaries: Words Written for the Arab Revolutions and Particularly the Syrian Revolution”, it contains Abu Basir’s daily (?) musings on what goes on in Egypt, Libya, Tunisia and, as the title suggests, particularly Syria. Although many journalists may do similar things, Abu Basir is the only radical Islamic ideologue that I know of who does this.

Conspiracies

Even in posts focussed on countries other than Syria, Abu Basir often finds a way to make a connection with the country of his birth. In his criticism of the former Libyan leader Mu’ammar al-Qadhafi, for example, he apologises to his readers for the support the Syrian regime gave to its Libyan counterpart (contribution no. 6). He does state, however, that “al-Asad is more criminal than the criminal al-Qadhafi” since the latter “only started using weapons against his people after a week of demonstrations”, while the Syrian president did so “from day one” (contribution no. 53).

Abu Basir’s scrapbook abounds in conspiracy theories. In one contribution (no. 46), he claims that the reason the United States does not invade Syria to overthrow the regime there is that the country – unlike Libya – lacks oil on the one hand and, on the other, because Syria “has played the role of watchdog” for Israel for more than forty years. He also states that Syria is a “servant” of “its master”, the US and the international community (contribution no. 304).

Readers may wonder if such thoughts aren’t rather odd considering, among several other things, Syria’s long-time support for Hizbullah’s attacks on the Israel. They might be, if Hizbullah wasn’t part of another conspiracy, namely the “coalition between the Syrian sectarian regime, Iran and Hizbullah in Lebanon” (contribution 35). He accuses the latter of contributing to the killing of Syrian demonstrators (contribution 231) and sees them as part of a Shiite plot, which has supposedly succeeded “through the Syrian secret service and the media” to brand all demonstrators as “Salafis”, which many see as a synonym for “terrorists” (contribution 226). According to Abu Basir’s logic, which he leaves largely unexpressed, such conspirators must apparently work hand in glove with those other countries allegedly pulling all the strings (i.e., the US and Israel).

Shallow

Some of the contributions that appear in Abu Basir’s scrapbook are also available as individual articles. Still, there is a clear contrast between this book and his other writings on the Arab Spring. Whereas the latter are relatively careful and considered, the collection of short contributions to his scrapbook are often rather crude and shallow. This does not just apply to his accusations of conspiratorial plots and his cheap shots at Shiites – which, to be honest, can also be found in his longer writings – but also in his downright celebration of the death of al-Qadhafi: “God is great… God is great and praise be to God… Today the tyrant al-Qadhafi has been killed… The father of ignorance of this age has been killed… Musaylima [an early-Islamic false prophet] of this age has been killed” (contribution 688).

Perhaps such tendencies can be expected in a scrapbook, in which deep thoughts usually have no place. Abu Basir is also less likely to be criticised for saying such things, since some of these “arguments” go down particularly well with his fellow radicals. Still, Abu Basir might do the Arab Spring more good if he stuck to his genuine efforts – no matter how unpalatable these may still be to most – to help the revolutionaries find solutions to their problems rather than egging them on with hollow rhetoric that doesn’t do anybody any good.

 

Several months ago, President Obama signed an executive order establishing an interagency center to coordinate the US government’s public messages against terrorist organizations. A major component of this Center for Strategic Counterterrorism Communications (CSCC) was in the news lately for its clever campaign against AQAP on Yemeni tribal forums.

Because the center is new, most people are unfamiliar with its mandate or how it operates. More broadly, people are unaware of the complexities of government messaging against terrorist organizations. To shed light on these subjects, the first coordinator of the CSCC, Ambassador Richard LeBaron (now retired), has given me permission to post his recent remarks on what he learned during his tenure. It’s very instructive for anyone interested in counter-propaganda and how the US government is coping with the new information environment.

Well, perhaps not quite. Nevertheless, readers of Jihadica will be interested to know that my book on Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, one of the most prominent jihadi ideologues alive, was recently published by Cambridge University Press. Maybe the book doesn’t tell you everything you want to know about the man, his ideas and his influence, but together with some of my articles, it will surely satisfy most people’s curiosity.