Acting in the name of multiculturalism and inclusion, it was the West’s ‘free and open societies’ that afforded state funding to advocates of jihadism. How could they have been so misguided? How can they still refuse to recognise their mistake?
I. The Nurture of Sacred Violence within Western Multiculturalism
Western governments and their security agencies appear not only shocked by the ultra-violence of the new Islamic State (ISIS), but also surprised that jihadist recruits from Britain, Australia and Europe celebrate the killings they commit. Significantly, British and Australian jihadis promulgate the majority of the English-language posts and internet videos that glorify violent extremism.
They justify their methods on the grounds of their allegiance to a radical, anti-democratic, non-negotiable modern form of Islam committed to world purification and the violent restoration of the caliphate. In 1924, the Turkish modernising autocrat, Ataturk, dissolved the Ottoman caliphate, a lineal descendant of the Ummayad and Abbasid caliphates that dated back to the first centuries of Islam. In Mosul, in June 2014, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the nominal head of the Islamic State, declared its re-establishment and styled himself the new caliph, Ibrahim.
On the eve of the NATO summit in South Wales last month, the US President and UK Prime Minister declared that the way to contain the problem of global jihadism and its aspiration to a cyber-caliphate was to “invest in the building blocks of free and open societies, including creating a new and genuinely inclusive government in Iraq”.[1] Not only does such a response seem naive, it notably fails to address the problem of home-grown radicalism and how the ideology that legitimates and ultimately sanctifies violence emanated less from the Middle East and more from the radical Islamist NGOs that have proliferated across Europe and to a lesser extent Australia since the last decade of the Cold War.
In other words, it was the “free and open societies” of the West that tolerated and afforded state funding to the leading advocates of jihadism. In so doing, they incubated this distinctively illiberal, ideological mutation. European and Australian political elites acted in this curiously self-destructive manner, because, at the end of the Cold War, they came to share a commitment to multiculturalism and diversity as the basis for greater political inclusivity and enhanced global and social justice.
It was, however, in the UK that the political elites, their media and leading academics (together with their Australian offshoots, in a perverse postmodern version of the cultural cringe) most fervently embraced this post-imperial, multicultural commitment, and it was in its capital, Londonistan, that the new political religion found its most congenial home.
Before committing more men and materiel overseas, it would seem “prudent”, to use Tony Abbott’s favourite epithet, to examine the character of this home-grown jihadist phenomenon, and why the media, academe, the political elites and, most disturbingly, the police and security agencies either discount its political appeal or attribute its “root causes” to social deprivation, marginalisation or anything other than the ideology that renders it seductive. How did this costly misunderstanding evolve, and what precisely is the basis of Islamism’s appeal to wealthy, often university-educated, second- and third-generation migrants from Asian or Middle Eastern provenance in Britain and Australia?
Third way multiculturalism and war
In order to understand how jihadism achieved its current status we need first to examine how British, and to a lesser extent Australian, elites prosecuted the war on terror abroad after 2001, whilst allowing elements of Islamism’s command-and-control sanctuary and state handouts in multicultural cities like London, Birmingham, Sydney and Melbourne. Multiculturalism’s classic manifestation as a security doctrine may be located in Tony Blair’s way post-1997, Rudd’s way in Australia after 2007, and latterly, Cameron’s way since 2011.
It required Anglospheric democracies to prosecute the war forcefully against those who resort to jihad (holy war) abroad, actively participating in coalitions of the willing whether in Afghanistan or Iraq, whilst, at the same time, affording some of Islamism’s key ideologists and strategists a high degree of latitude at home. This reflects the fact that, whilst recognising that “today, conflicts rarely stay within national boundaries” and “interdependence defines the new world we live in”, Blairism and its watered-down Ruddite equivalent also wished to “celebrate the diversity in our country” and gain strength “from the cultures and races” in their midst, some of whose adherents drew upon the interdependent and transnational character of conflict to render UK or Australian infrastructure a soft civilian target.[2]
Although, after February 2011, David Cameron sought to distance his government from a policy of “state-led multiculturalism” that, he argued, facilitated radicalisation, official policy nevertheless remained, at best, ambivalent. [3] Meanwhile the European Social Science Research Council (ESCRC), like the Australian Research Council (ARC), continues to disperse large grants to teams of sociologists, educationalists and psychologists to demonstrate that, despite some “concern” over the London bombings of July 2005, the model of successful multiculturalism remains intact.[4]
In the UK and Australia, this quasi-official doctrine of multiculturalism masked an incoherent policy oscillation between prosecution and celebration, complacency and arbitrariness. Thus, while Tony Blair, remained steadfast in his commitment to the war on terror abroad, until 2004 the British Home Office permitted self-styled sheikhs Abu Hamza al-Masri and Omar Bakri Mohamed to recruit for Al Qaeda from their state-subsidised mosque in Finsbury Park, North London, whilst Abu Qatada operated as Al Qaeda’s emir in Europe.
These leading figures in the protoplasmic Al Qaeda network sought the achievement—by jihad, if necessary—of a unified Islamic world. Groups like Omar Bakri Mohammed’s Al Muhajiroun (the migrants) and its breakaway front organisations like the Saviour Sect and Hizb ut-Tahrir (Party of Struggle), which, after 2002, extended its outreach activities to Sydney and Melbourne, dismissed the more moderate voices of diasporic Islam, who dissented from their promotion of a de-territorialised salafist utopia, as “chocolate Muslims”. The proselytising missionary work of groups like Hizb preached to a generation of alienated Muslim youth the inevitable confrontation of their creed with British and latterly Australian democracy’s decadent secularism.
Deracinated second- and third-generation migrants, thus, found solace not in the polymorphous joys of secularism and multiculturalism, but in a re-Islamisation that favoured “supranational [Islamist] organisations instead of ‘national’ Islamic movements”. Hizb ut-Tahrir exemplified this transition to a universalist mode of Islamic identity. As Olivier Roy explains:
this fundamentalist party based in London … was originally set up as a Palestinian Islamic movement in 1953. Officially non-violent, its ideas are nevertheless very radical. It advocates the immediate re-establishment of the caliphate … and the ultimate conversion of the entire world to Islam. Hizb ut-Tahrir is now a genuinely international movement. [5]
Ed Husain, a former member of Hizb, observed that the party “borrowed” its organisational structure and confrontational tactics from “radical socialists”. It functions as an elite vanguard party, recruiting from university campuses, which it finds particularly congenial. As Husain again observes,
At many universities the tactics of confrontation and consolidation of Muslim feeling under the leadership of Hizb activists were being adopted … What dumbfounded us was the fact that the authorities on campuses never stopped us. [6]
Prior to the London bombings of July 2005, the UK government, as with university campuses, did little to discourage Islamist activism or to encourage a sustained criticism of its questionable premises. The same was perhaps even truer of Australia where media and academic elites railed against Australia’s commitment to a US-inspired “violent peace” at the expense of a misunderstood and non-Western “other”.