Terrorists die but ideology lives
Feb 1st, 2008 by MESH
From Raymond Ibrahim
Will the recent killing in Pakistan of “senior” Al Qaeda leader, Abu Laith al-Libi, have any tangible effects on the “war on terror”? Considering the headline news coverage, one might assume so. In fact, whenever any major Al Qaeda operative or leader is slain, the media is abuzz with it, implying that we are one step closer to eradicating Al Qaeda’s terror. But will the death of al-Libi—or any other Islamist leader—make any difference at all?
There was, for instance, all the hubbub surrounding the killing of the head-chopping Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, nearly two years ago. Then, almost every major politician, including President Bush, Prime Minister Blair, and Iraq’s Prime Minister Maliki gave some sort of victory speech, some highly triumphant, others more cautious.
But if Zarqawi’s death did not diminish Al Qaeda’s highly influential presence in Iraq—it took the “surge” to make a dent—will al-Libi’s death affect Al Qaeda’s position in Afghanistan? Indeed, would the deaths of Ayman al-Zawahiri or Osama bin Laden himself have any long-term effects on the growth, spread, and goals of radical Islam?
Recent history provides a lucid answer to these questions.
Consider the progress of the Muslim Brotherhood, the largest and oldest Islamic fundamentalist organization today. Founded in Egypt by Hasan al-Banna in 1928, it originally boasted only six members. In the following decades, in part thanks to the radical writings of one of its premiere ideologues, Sayyid Qutb—whom Al Qaeda quotes liberally in their many writings—the Brotherhood, though constantly clashing with Egypt’s government, grew steadily.
As leaders, both Banna and Qutb were eventually targeted and killed by Egypt’s government—the former assassinated, the latter executed. The Brotherhood however, continued thriving underground for many more decades. Then, to the world’s surprise, the partially-banned, constantly-harassed Brotherhood managed to win 88 out of 454 seats in Egypt’s 2005 parliamentary elections—making them the largest opposition bloc in the government.
After two of its most prominent leaders were killed, after thousands of its members have been harassed, jailed, and sometimes tortured, today the Brotherhood is stronger, more influential, and more secure than at any other time in its turbulent history.
The Palestinian Hamas, itself an offshoot of the Brotherhood, is another case in point. Founded in 1987 by Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, Hamas has since been labeled a terrorist organization by several governments, including the United States, most notably for its many suicide operations against Israel. Due to Yassin’s figurehead status in Hamas, the Israeli government targeted him for assassination in March 2004. (While the quadriplegic Yassin was being wheeled out of a mosque after morning prayers, an Israeli helicopter launched two Hellfire missiles into him, killing him instantly.)
The result? Hamas, like the Brotherhood, did not decline or lose morale. To the contrary, it went on to win a major landslide election in the January 2006 Palestinian parliamentary elections, allowing it to claim to represent the Palestinian people.
There are countless of other examples from both past and present history where popular Islamist leaders were either killed (or died naturally), and the only thing that changed is that the movement they led grew and consolidated more power.
Ayman al-Zawahiri summarizes this phenomenon well. Asked in one of his more recent interviews about the status of bin Laden and the Taliban’s one-eyed Mullah Omar, he confidently replied:
Jihad in the path of Allah is greater than any individual or organization. It is a struggle between Truth and Falsehood, until Allah Almighty inherits the earth and those who live in it. Mullah Muhammad Omar and Sheikh Osama bin Laden—may Allah protect them from all evil—are merely two soldiers of Islam in the journey of jihad, while the struggle between Truth and Falsehood transcends time (from The Al Qaeda Reader, 182).
According to this statement, which itself is grounded in Islamic theology, Islamic militants are not the cause of the war. They are but a symptom of a much greater cause—the “struggle between Truth [Islam] and Falsehood [non-Islam] that transcends time.” The problem, then, is not men like Banna, Qutb, and Yassin—nor is it even bin Laden, Zawahiri, or al-Libi. Individually killing them off is only treating the symptom—a good thing, to be sure—but it does not cure the malady. The root cause is the violent and fascist ideology that motivates them.
Comments are limited to MESH members.
One Response to “Terrorists die but ideology lives”
Does the killing of terrorist leaders make any difference? Raymond Ibrahim thinks it does not. I don’t believe such a categorical answer can be given, certainly not in the light of historical experience since each case is different. There have been studies over the last decades of the effects of the elimination of terrorist leaders. They all reached the unstartling conclusion that the more terrorists are eliminated, the less terrorism survived—unless there is an unlimited reservoir of aspiring terrorists (in our days suicide bombers). But is there such an unlimited reservoir? There has been a phenomenon called the Salafi burnout—and this is hastened if it is realized that terrorism does not make progress (such as in Egypt in the 1980s and 1990s).
To repeat once again: each case is different. It could be argued that the killing of Zarqawi was “objectively” counterindicated since his extremism caused more damage to his own cause than his opponents did. It could well be that if Osama and Zawahiri were eliminated the impact would be very limited except perhaps on the psychological level, given the structure of Al Qaeda.
Why have individual leaders been targets of counterterrorism? Partly because of the feeling that for justice to be done, those who committed criminal acts should not go scot free. Partly because the elimination of prominent leaders is a blow to the prestige of terrorist groups even if the practical significance is limited.
I do not think that the references to Sayyid Qutb and Hasan al-Banna are very relevant. These were ideologues preaching ideas which fell on fertile ground. They became martyrs but this was not the main reason why their ideas became influential. Raymond Ibrahim could have gone much further back, for instance to early Christianity and one of its first spokesmen, Tertullian: The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
True, Qutb and Banna preached violence, but not necessarily individual terrorism—it could have been political, collective action as in the case of many other such movements. Terrorism is usually a gamble. Think of the Muslim Brotherhood challenging Hafez Asad. There was no terrorism in Syria after Homs and Hamah. Or the brutal Russian actions taken against the Chechens. They have been quite effective even though there has been no political solution to the underlying problems.
It is not so much the terrorist ideology threatening the West but their weapons. One of the constant and deeply ingrained Western misconceptions concerns the role of violence in this context. Violence, we are told, is of no help against terrorism, which is a struggle for the hearts and minds, etc. It is true, of course, that antiterrorist violence should be accompanied by attempts to find political solutions. This may be possible in some cases but not in others. It is also true that the use of a little violence very often fails. But massive violence usually succeeds. The domestic political resistance against such a course of action is enormous and it will not be taken by democratic countries except if their very existence is at stake. But this belongs to a different chapter.
Walter Laqueur is a member of MESH.