Welcome to DU!
The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards.
Join the community:
Create a free account
Support DU (and get rid of ads!):
Become a Star Member
Latest Breaking News
Editorials & Other Articles
General Discussion
The DU Lounge
All Forums
Issue Forums
Culture Forums
Alliance Forums
Region Forums
Support Forums
Help & Search
General Discussion
In reply to the discussion: What Should Be Done About ISIS? And Who Should Do It? [View all]Comrade Grumpy
(13,184 posts)32. The London Review of Books has an interesting piece on British jihadis.
http://www.lrb.co.uk/v37/n16/owen-bennett-jones/we-and-you
<snip>
Pantuccis description of the jihadi plots that have been hatched in the UK concentrates on the question of what causes radicalisation in the first place. With the usual caveat that no single explanation seems adequate, he offers the analogy of a fruit machine. A jihadist recruiter looking for a new volunteer hits the jackpot when three drivers ideology, grievance and mobilisation all come together at the same time.
<snip>
On Pantuccis fruit machine the ideological underpinning of violent jihad has to be aligned with a second driver: grievance. It is tempting to describe violent jihadism as an act of rebellion motivated by socio-economic factors. After all, British Pakistanis like Muslims in much of the Middle East and North Africa tend to be at the wrong end of poverty, education and health indicators. Pakistani and Afghan Taliban recruits could be seen as revolutionaries trying to overthrow a corrupt and entrenched feudal leadership. But Pantucci downplays socio-economic considerations, pointing out that many poor people with legitimate grievances do not engage in violent campaigns. Explanations of radicalisation that rely on economic exclusion also fail to explain why many jihadis come from relatively well-off families. To take three British examples: Omar Sheikh, one of those responsible for the murder of the Wall Street Journal journalist Daniel Pearl, went to the London School of Economics; Ramzi Yousef, who organised the failed World Trade Center attack of 1993, studied electrical engineering in Swansea; and the would-be underpants bomber, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, was a student at University College London.
*
Pantucci is more convinced by another oft-cited source of grievance: Western foreign policy. The US, Israel, the UK and France, the argument goes, face violent attacks because, for all their talk of human rights, they cause or allow the oppression of Muslims, whether in Iraq or Gaza. Their soldiers invade Muslim lands and their drones kill innocent Muslim civilians. The complaints are not just about military action but extend to other aspects of Western conduct, from secretly reading peoples emails to torturing them. But the cause and effect isnt as clear as many argue. Until 2012, for example, drone strikes in Pakistan were frequently cited as the main cause of Taliban anger and more broadly as the biggest single reason for the radicalisation of Pakistani society. Yet when the US suspended drone strikes for most of 2013, there was no sign that the jihadis were suddenly short of recruits or that anti-Americanism diminished.
We Love Death as You Love Life pays insufficient attention to the underlying factor that helps explain radicalisation: identity. The most instructive passage in the book quotes a bunch of 14-year-olds in Rotherham.
Do you like being called British Asian? Shakeel asks a group of friends. I like Paki better. Im a Paki. What do you think?
Kiran replies: I think of myself as a British Asian Muslim.
Samina says: I am a Muslim. I believe in Islam.
And Shazad: I dont think of myself as a Muslim and I dont think of myself as a Pakistani I may be a Muslim but I dont think of myself as a Muslim. I think of myself as a British Asian, that is what I think of myself.
Pantucci interprets this exchange as a demonstration of the teenagers confidence in blending their various identities. To me, it shows their bewilderment. The mix of Islam, Pakistan, India, Asia and Britain leaves many uncertain where they belong. Faith schools, sensationalist media coverage, housing segregation and the visibility of the English Defence League add to the confusion. Strikingly frequent stories about the corpses of British jihadis bearing tattoos of English football clubs suggest unsuccessful attempts to resolve these issues. One of the most popular radical Islamist groups in the UK, Hizb ut-Tahrir, has been successful precisely because it offers a resolution of these questions by promoting an internationalist vision of political Islam, with nation-states abolished in favour of a caliphate.
<snip>
<snip>
Pantuccis description of the jihadi plots that have been hatched in the UK concentrates on the question of what causes radicalisation in the first place. With the usual caveat that no single explanation seems adequate, he offers the analogy of a fruit machine. A jihadist recruiter looking for a new volunteer hits the jackpot when three drivers ideology, grievance and mobilisation all come together at the same time.
<snip>
On Pantuccis fruit machine the ideological underpinning of violent jihad has to be aligned with a second driver: grievance. It is tempting to describe violent jihadism as an act of rebellion motivated by socio-economic factors. After all, British Pakistanis like Muslims in much of the Middle East and North Africa tend to be at the wrong end of poverty, education and health indicators. Pakistani and Afghan Taliban recruits could be seen as revolutionaries trying to overthrow a corrupt and entrenched feudal leadership. But Pantucci downplays socio-economic considerations, pointing out that many poor people with legitimate grievances do not engage in violent campaigns. Explanations of radicalisation that rely on economic exclusion also fail to explain why many jihadis come from relatively well-off families. To take three British examples: Omar Sheikh, one of those responsible for the murder of the Wall Street Journal journalist Daniel Pearl, went to the London School of Economics; Ramzi Yousef, who organised the failed World Trade Center attack of 1993, studied electrical engineering in Swansea; and the would-be underpants bomber, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, was a student at University College London.
*
Pantucci is more convinced by another oft-cited source of grievance: Western foreign policy. The US, Israel, the UK and France, the argument goes, face violent attacks because, for all their talk of human rights, they cause or allow the oppression of Muslims, whether in Iraq or Gaza. Their soldiers invade Muslim lands and their drones kill innocent Muslim civilians. The complaints are not just about military action but extend to other aspects of Western conduct, from secretly reading peoples emails to torturing them. But the cause and effect isnt as clear as many argue. Until 2012, for example, drone strikes in Pakistan were frequently cited as the main cause of Taliban anger and more broadly as the biggest single reason for the radicalisation of Pakistani society. Yet when the US suspended drone strikes for most of 2013, there was no sign that the jihadis were suddenly short of recruits or that anti-Americanism diminished.
We Love Death as You Love Life pays insufficient attention to the underlying factor that helps explain radicalisation: identity. The most instructive passage in the book quotes a bunch of 14-year-olds in Rotherham.
Do you like being called British Asian? Shakeel asks a group of friends. I like Paki better. Im a Paki. What do you think?
Kiran replies: I think of myself as a British Asian Muslim.
Samina says: I am a Muslim. I believe in Islam.
And Shazad: I dont think of myself as a Muslim and I dont think of myself as a Pakistani I may be a Muslim but I dont think of myself as a Muslim. I think of myself as a British Asian, that is what I think of myself.
Pantucci interprets this exchange as a demonstration of the teenagers confidence in blending their various identities. To me, it shows their bewilderment. The mix of Islam, Pakistan, India, Asia and Britain leaves many uncertain where they belong. Faith schools, sensationalist media coverage, housing segregation and the visibility of the English Defence League add to the confusion. Strikingly frequent stories about the corpses of British jihadis bearing tattoos of English football clubs suggest unsuccessful attempts to resolve these issues. One of the most popular radical Islamist groups in the UK, Hizb ut-Tahrir, has been successful precisely because it offers a resolution of these questions by promoting an internationalist vision of political Islam, with nation-states abolished in favour of a caliphate.
<snip>
Edit history
Please sign in to view edit histories.
Recommendations
0 members have recommended this reply (displayed in chronological order):
33 replies
= new reply since forum marked as read
Highlight:
NoneDon't highlight anything
5 newestHighlight 5 most recent replies
RecommendedHighlight replies with 5 or more recommendations
You're comparing Saddam Hussein to ISIS? A lie to a group that has promised to attack us? Really?
stevenleser
Aug 2015
#12
No one should take that suggestions seriously until you research it and explain how. For instance...
stevenleser
Aug 2015
#13
develop renewable energy and turn our backs on the entire oil despotic regions
saturnsring
Aug 2015
#9