The ISIS Crisis
The ISIS Crisis
The ISIS Crisis
The
ISIS
Crisis
F O R E I G N A F F A I R S .C O M
March 2015
March 6, 2015
The New New Jihadist Thing
Meeting the ISIS Challenge
Gideon Rose
THE CHALLENGE
November 19, 2014
The Myth of the Caliphate
The Political History of an Idea
Nick Danforth
cover photo: courtesy reuters
September 3, 2014
ISIS Sends a Message
What Gestures Say About Today’s Middle East
Nathaniel Zelinsky
THE FRONTS
June 25, 2014
Securing al-Sham
Syria and the Violence in Iraq
Andrew J. Tabler
December 4, 2014
ISIS Enters Egypt
How Washington Must Respond
Khalil al-Anani
March 1, 2015
ISIS’ Next Prize
Will Libya Join the Terrorist Group’s Caliphate?
Geoffrey Howard
February 6, 2015
Crime and Punishment in Jordan
The Killing of Moath al-Kasasbeh and the Future of the War Against
ISIS
David Schenker
November/December 2014
Homeward Bound?
Don’t Hype the Threat of Returning Jihadists
Daniel Byman and Jeremy Shapiro
THE RESPONSE
August 14, 2014
ISIS’ Gruesome Gamble
Why the Group Wants a Confrontation with the United States
Barak Mendelsohn
November 5, 2014
The Hollow Coalition
Washington’s Timid European Allies
Raphael Cohen and Gabriel Scheinmann
January 2, 2015
Hammer and Anvil
How to Defeat ISIS
Robert A. Pape, Keven Ruby, and Vincent Bauer
March/April 2015
ISIS Is Not a Terrorist Group
Why Counterterrorism Won’t Stop the Latest Jihadist Threat
Audrey Kurth Cronin
February 9, 2015
ISIS on the Run
The Terrorist Group Struggles to Hold On
Michael Pregent and Robin Simcox
Visit ForeignAffairs.com for more on these topics—and all our other great content.
The New New Jihadist Thing
Meeting the ISIS Challenge
Gideon Rose
One of the signature beliefs of the George W. Bush administration was that Iraq was a
crucial font of radical Sunni jihadism and so had to be attacked as an essential early
move in the post-9/11 “war on terror.” At the time, this proposition was dubious. Iraqi
leader Saddam Hussein’s links to terror were real but relatively minor ones. As one wag
put it, Iraq was low on the list of state sponsors of terror, and terrorism was low on the
list of reasons to worry about Saddam’s Iraq. (What professionals considered a much
greater worry—Saddam’s covert WMD programs—also turned out to be minor, but
that’s a story for another day.)
By toppling the Saddam regime and failing to put anything substantial in its place,
however, the Bush administration created the conditions for its fears to be realized, and
within a few years radical jihadists were crucial players in the chaos of Iraq’s
burgeoning civil war. Order was eventually restored through a combination of local
tribal resistance, aggressive U.S. counterterrorism policies, and Washington’s adoption
of a new and better-resourced counterinsurgency strategy, and so by the time the last
U.S. combat troops left Iraq at the end of 2011, radical Islamist terrorism was once
again low on the list of the country’s troubles.
Then three new factors came into play: increasingly inept and sectarian rule by the
Shiite-led government, increasing detachment on the part of Washington, and
increasing violence in neighboring Syria. Together, these kindled the glowing embers of
the left-for-dead Iraqi jihadist movement. Elements of the group formerly known as al
Qaeda in Iraq resurfaced as the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham, or ISIS; gained a
foothold in the badlands of eastern Syria; and eventually conquered large swaths of
western Iraq to boot, bringing death, destruction, and fanaticism in their wake.
We told this sorry story last summer, in our eBook Endgame in Iraq. Nine months later,
with ISIS still on the rampage and at the top of the U.S. national security agenda, we
think it’s time to revisit the subject, carefully examining the nature of the ISIS threat,
the current state of the war against it, and the options for what to do next.
Bringing together a collection of our best coverage of the subject from both print and
Web, The ISIS Crisis offers an unparalleled range of authoritative analysis on
everything from the group’s ideology, strategy, and internal characteristics; to its
operations across the Middle East and elsewhere; to the difficult tradeoffs involved in
trying to halt and reverse its advance.
As you’d expect from Foreign Affairs, we don’t waste our time with juvenilia, such as
whether jihadists are crossing the Rio Grande or debating whether the word “Islamic”
should figure prominently in White House rhetoric. Instead, we look at the real
questions worthy of debate: What does ISIS want? How great a threat does it pose, to
whom? And how can it be stopped? The collection concludes with a fascinating survey
of expert opinion on whether Washington should step up its anti-ISIS military
campaign, in which 73 of the world’s most knowledgeable observers offer their personal
take on the question.
We can’t promise that after reading all this, you’ll know exactly what to do. But we can
promise that you’ll have the information you need to think about the question
intelligently.
The Myth of the Caliphate
The Political History of an Idea
Nick Danforth
Abdulhamid II, who would become one of the last Ottoman sultans and caliphs, as a prince in 1867.
W.&D. DOWNEY / JEBULON
In 1924, Turkish leader Kemal Ataturk officially abolished the Ottoman caliphate.
Today, most Western discussions of the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), the
extremist group that has declared a caliphate across much of Iraq and Syria, begin by
referencing this event as if it were a profound turning point in Islamic history. Some
contemporary Islamists think of it this way, too: there’s a reason, for example, that Lion
Cub, the Muslim Brotherhood’s children’s publication, once awarded the “Jewish”
“traitor” Ataturk multiple first prizes in its “Know the Enemies of Your Religion”
contest.
Even if today’s Islamists reference the Ottomans, though, most of them are much more
focused on trying to re-create earlier caliphates: the era of the four Rightly Guided
Caliphs, who ruled immediately after Muhammad’s death in the seventh century, for
example, or the Abbasid caliphate, which existed in one form or another from the ninth
to the thirteenth centuries (before being officially abolished by the Mongols). By
conflating the nineteenth-century Ottoman royal family with these caliphs from a
millennium ago or more, Western pundits and nostalgic Muslim thinkers alike have
built up a narrative of the caliphate as an enduring institution, central to Islam and
Islamic thought between the seventh and twentieth centuries. In fact, the caliphate is a
political or religious idea whose relevance has waxed and waned according to
circumstance.
The caliphate’s more recent history under the Ottomans shows why the institution
might be better thought of as a political fantasy—a blank slate just as nebulous as the
“dictatorship of the proletariat”—that contemporary Islamists are largely making up as
they go along. (If it weren’t, ISIS could not so readily use the same term to describe
their rogue and bloody statelet that Muslim British businessmen use to articulate the
idea of an elected and democratic leader for the Islamic world.) What’s more, the story
of the Ottoman caliphate also suggests that in trying to realize almost any version of
this fantasy, contemporary Islamists may well confront the same contradictions that
bedeviled the Ottomans a century ago.
OTTOMAN REBRANDING
When the Ottoman Empire conquered Egypt and the Arabian Peninsula in 1517, Sultan
Selim the Grim officially claimed the title of caliph for himself and his heirs. In addition
to taking control of the cities of Mecca and Medina, Selim bolstered his claim by
bringing a collection of the Prophet’s garments and beard hairs back to Istanbul.
Centuries after the fact, the Ottomans decided that they needed to make the whole
process look a little more respectable, so royal historians began to assert that the final
heir to the Abbasid caliphate, living in exile in Cairo centuries after losing his throne,
had voluntarily bestowed his title on Selim. More practically, the Ottomans buttressed
their claim to Islamic leadership by serving as guardians of the hajj and sending an
elaborately decorated gilt mantle to cover the Kaaba each year.
To put the title grab in perspective, when the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II conquered the
Byzantine capital of Constantinople 64 years before Selim conquered Egypt, he had
claimed the title Caesar of Rome for his descendants. To the extent that being caliph
had any more purchase than being Caesar for the Ottomans in the late nineteenth
century, it was largely the result of a political campaign on the part of Sultan
Abdulhamid II to rally anticolonial sentiment around the Ottoman state and to boost his
own domestic legitimacy. His techniques included seeking to have his name read out at
Friday prayers and distributing Korans around the Muslim world from Africa to
Indonesia.
There is no doubt that many Muslims, faced with the triumph of European colonialism
in their own countries, did come to admire the idea of a pious and powerful leader like
the Ottoman sultan defying Western imperialism on behalf of the entire Muslim world.
Certainly, British and French officials expressed increasing fear about his potential
power over Muslim colonial subjects in North Africa and India. Although he was eager
to try to leverage such fears, however, even Abdulhamid had his misgivings about how
much real influence his efforts won him in such far-flung locales.
One thing that particularly worried him was the fact that not everyone accepted his
claims on the caliphate. Separate from those who rallied around Abdulhamid out of
religious solidarity were others, motived by Arab nationalism or dissatisfaction with
Abdulhamid’s tyranny, who questioned the religious foundation of his rule. Such
thinkers, including at some points Rashid Rida, justified the creation of a different, Arab
caliphate by quoting Muhammad as saying that the true caliph needed to be a
descendant of the Prophet’s Quraysh tribe. (The Ottomans, it seems, accepted the
validity of this quote but had their own interpretation of it, in which the Prophet
actually meant that the caliph didn’t need to be a descendant of the Quraysh tribe.)
But in either case, the violent politics of the early twentieth century quickly outmatched
theology. Despite his best efforts as defender of the faith, Abdulhamid kept losing
territory and political power to Christian imperialist forces. That helped the secular
leaders of the Young Turk movement, such as Enver Pasha, sideline the sultan and take
power for themselves on the eve of World War I. When the Ottoman Empire then
enjoyed some military success, belatedly holding its own in the Second Balkan War,
Enver became an inspiration to the Muslim world. Indeed, the list of babies reportedly
named after him at the time includes Enver Hoxha, the future leader of Albania, and
Anwar al-Sadat, the future leader of Egypt.
ARAB HEIR
Of course, Enver’s own star faded, too, with the Ottoman defeat at the end of World
War I. Ataturk quickly emerged as a new hero by leading a successful campaign to drive
French, Italian, British, and Greek armies out of Ottoman Anatolia. Quickly, some of the
same politically attuned Muslims who had supported Abdulhamid’s anti-imperial
caliphate found even more to admire in Ataturk's armed defiance of European might. In
Palestine, for example, Muslims who had once turned to the Ottoman caliph for
protection against Zionist settlers and British occupiers began to cheer Ataturk, leading
one suspicious British officer to worry that the Turkish figure had become “a new savior
of Islam.”
At the same time, the decline of Ottoman power before, during, and after World War I
loaned increasing credence to the idea of a new, non-Ottoman caliph in the Arab world.
But it was never entirely clear just who that Arab caliph would be. The result was that
when Ataturk finally abolished the institution of the caliphate in 1924, there was no
clear or coherent outcry from the Muslim world as a whole. Many Muslims, particularly
those in India for whom pan-Islamic symbols such as the caliph were an important part
of anticolonialism, protested. Others were more interested in maneuvering to claim the
title for themselves.
Most famous was Husayn ibn Ali, sherif of Mecca, who is known to Lawrence of Arabia
fans for his leading role in the Arab Revolt. As the local leader with control of Mecca
and Medina—and a supposedly clear line of descent from the Prophet’s tribe—Husayn
believed that after driving the Ottomans out of the Middle East, he could become an
Arab king, with all the religious and temporal powers of the caliph. In pursuit of this
goal, when Ataturk exiled the Ottoman sultan, Husayn invited him to Mecca. (The exiled
monarch soon decided he preferred the Italian Riviera.)
The Egyptian monarchy, meanwhile, had a claim of its own to advance. Despite being
closely aligned with the British and descended from Circassian Albanian ancestors with
no tie to the Prophet’s family, King Fuad covertly put forward his case to succeed the
Ottomans. In the words of one Islamic scholar, Egypt was better suited to the caliphate
than, say, a desert nomad like Husayn “because she took the lead in religious education
and had a vast number of highly educated and intelligent Muslims.” King Idris I of Libya
also seemed to consider making a bid for the title but, like Fuad, ultimately decided he
had too little support to do so officially.
Saudi Arabia’s King Saud, despite eventually seizing the Holy Land from Husayn, was
one of the few leaders who never put forward a claim to the caliphate, although the idea
was certainly discussed. Saud was aligned with the Wahhabi movement, which arose as
a rebellion against the supposed decadence of the Ottoman government in the
eighteenth century. Ironically, although his opposition to the Ottoman-style caliph was
shared by other Arabs, his particular brand of religiosity was too radical for him to ever
think he had much chance of becoming caliph himself.
In the end, though, the unseemliness of such political wrangling was just one of the
factors that helped put the caliphate discussion to rest for the next several decades.
Many Muslims had responded to its abolition by redoubling their efforts to build secular
constitutional governments in their own countries. Indeed, some of the strongest
opposition to the Egyptian king’s caliphal aspirations came from Egyptian liberals who
opposed any moves that would increase the monarchy’s power. Egyptian scholar Ali
Abd al-Raziq, in his famously controversial criticism of the very idea of a caliphate, even
went so far as to claim that the Koran contains “no reference to the caliphate that
Muslims have been calling for.” This was also the period where a number of thinkers,
secularists and religious Muslims alike, began discussing the possibility that the caliph
should be a purely religious figure, like an “Islamic pope,” unencumbered by any
temporal power.
A HOPE AND A PRAYER
The legacy of earlier rounds of this argument can still be felt today. It is no surprise
that, as a historical inspiration, the Ottoman caliphate holds most sway among Turkish
Islamists, whose nostalgia owes far more to the way Turkish nationalists have glorified
the empire than it does to the piety of the sultans. Conversely, the religious legacy of
Abd al-Wahhab’s eighteenth-century critique of the Ottoman state, combined with the
political legacy of more recent anti-Ottoman Arab nationalism, gives plenty of non-
Turkish Islamists ample reason to prefer the precedent of an Arab caliphate.
By treating the Ottoman caliphate as the final historical reference point for what
current Islamists aspire to, Western pundits conflate the contemporary dream of a
powerful, universally respected Muslim leader with the late Ottoman sultan's failed
dream of becoming such a figure himself. The circumstances uniting these dreams—and
the appeal of strong religious power in the face of Western political, military, and
economic power—may be the same. But so are the challenges. Contemporary claimants
to the title of caliph may quickly find themselves in the same boat as Ottoman caliphs.
Political or military success, rather than history or theology, can bring short-lived
legitimacy, but failure in these realms will bring other contenders for power.
Barak Mendelsohn
Fighters of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant stand guard in Mosul, June 11, 2014.
COURTESY REUTERS
On its lightning-fast advance through Iraq, the radical jihadi group the Islamic State of
Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) has captured Mosul, Iraq’s second-largest city; Tikrit, Saddam
Hussain’s birth city; and many other towns along the way. Now, with help from former
Baathists and Sunni tribal forces, the group is making its way toward Baghdad. ISIS’
astonishing success could be a harbinger of a tectonic shift within the jihadi movement.
Namely, ISIS could supplant al Qaeda as the movement’s leader.
This showdown has been several years in the making. The friction between the two
groups goes back years. But the relationship did not reach a breaking point until April
2013, when Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the leader of ISIS, expanded his group into Syria
and attempted to subordinate the local al Qaeda branch, Jabhat al-Nusra (JN), to his
own authority. JN rejected Baghdadi’s leadership, and Ayman al-Zawahiri, al Qaeda’s
chief, tried to calm the dispute by announcing that JN would remain responsible for
jihad in the Syrian arena and ISIS would keep to Iraq. ISIS refused to accept Zawahiri’s
decision and continued its expansion into Syria. Along the way, it trampled other Syrian
rebel groups, including radical Islamists. Soon, ISIS’ overreach provoked a backlash,
and opposing rebel groups mounted a counteroffensive. For its part, JN eventually sided
with the anti-ISIS forces. By February 2014, the rift between ISIS and the Syrian
opposition had led Zawahiri to disown the group.
The differences between ISIS, on the one side, and al Qaeda and JN, on the other, are
not merely about power and control of the jihadi movement. As important as these
aspects are, the groups have serious differences when it comes to strategy, tactics, and
Islamic authority. They differ on issues such as the implementation of harsh Islamist
laws, the killing of Shia civilians, and the right of one group to impose its authority over
all others. The groups don’t disagree about the legitimacy of all of these things, but al
Qaeda is more patient and ISIS is generally more radical and uncompromising. For that
reason, its traipse through Iraq represents a serious organizational, strategic, and
ideological blow to al Qaeda.
ISIS’ display of power will likely strengthen its hand over al Qaeda in Syria and beyond.
First, the military successes brought the group substantial spoils: ISIS looted bank
deposits worth close to $500 million, captured large quantities of military equipment,
and liberated hundreds of fighters from prisons in territory now under its control. All of
that will prove very useful in Iraq and in Syria. As money and manpower breed success,
success will breed more success. ISIS’ popularity will likely rise among radicals, and
that will translate into more funding and volunteers for the group. ISIS could rapidly
mobilize those forces along the vanishing border between Iraq and Syria, which it now
increasingly controls, and launch even more ambitious campaigns while it fends off
attacks in Syria.
Second, beyond raising ISIS’ profile, the terrorist group’s march through Iraq also
diminishes al Qaeda’s. Al Qaeda’s greatest achievement was the 9/11 attacks, but that
was 13 years ago. Many of today’s jihadis were young children at that time. Moreover,
the attack on the United States was only supposed to be a means to an end: the
establishment of an Islamic caliphate in the heart of the Middle East. Al Qaeda
franchises did manage to gain (and then lose) some territory in Yemen, Somalia, and
northern Mali. But these territories are smaller in size and significance than what al
Qaeda wanted -- and what ISIS controls today. Although al Qaeda may have started the
march toward the reestablishment of the Caliphate, it is ISIS that seems to be realizing
it.
Third, success breeds legitimacy. For the past year, al Qaeda’s main tactic against ISIS
has been to try to delegitimize the movement. And, until now, al Qaeda’s strategy had
been moderately successful. Popular jihadi scholars, such as Abu Muhammad al-
Maqdisi and Abu Qatada al-Filistini, released messages of support for al Qaeda and
strongly denounced ISIS -- which turned some would-be adherents away from the
upstart. ISIS was able to muddle through the delegitimization campaign by hanging on
to the support of some young and popular jihadi scholars. And, even before the surprise
in Iraq, the trend in the jihadi movement had been toward the decentralization of
religious authority; social media offers a platform for nearly any charismatic jihadi to
gain a following. At the same time, moreover, young jihadis have increasingly come to
view the old guard -- often identified with al Qaeda -- as disconnected from reality. They
give more respect to warriors than to religious scholars. All that plays to ISIS’ favor,
especially now that it has real victories under its belt. It can use those as evidence that
it has been right all along and that its ways are truthful. Zawahiri’s criticisms, delivered
from his hiding place in Pakistan, are weak in comparison.
Fourth, symbolism works to ISIS’ advantage. In the past, al Qaeda, Syrian rebel groups,
and numerous jihadi scholars criticized Baghdadi’s claim that ISIS represents a genuine
Islamic Emirate -- with rights that surpass any privileges a jihadi organization may
claim -- by arguing that control over territory is essential for the creation of Islamic
Emirate. Now, ISIS holds territory larger than many countries. Similarly, although
Baghdadi has been criticized for using the title Emir of the Believers, which is reserved
for the Caliph, his organization’s recent accomplishments make the title seem more
appropriate. Further, it is lost on few radical Islamists that Baghdadi’s forces -- merely
5,000 men -- defeated 90,000 soldiers on a march toward Baghdad, the seat of the
Abbasid Caliphate for 500 years.
War is, of course, unpredictable, and ISIS’ good omens could evaporate if it doesn’t
hold on to its gains. Unfortunately for al Qaeda (and Iraqis and Syrians), that seems
unlikely to happen. ISIS’ march is the result of a well-thought-out plan that was a long
time in the making. The crumbling Iraqi military is ill equipped to quickly reverse ISIS’
progress, and the United States appears unwilling to step in, at least in a dramatic way.
Al Qaeda knows that. And so, despite the animosity between the two groups, it seems to
be bound to congratulate its rival for its victories. It might offer advice, but it can’t go
against ISIS. It will be expected to offer support or at the least cheer for its rival, not
stick a knife in its back. To al Qaeda’s further disadvantage, disagreements over
methods and authority are increasingly less salient. Al Qaeda’s appeal relative to ISIS’
is greater when questions of how to run a territory populated by Sunni Muslims who do
not subscribe to the Salafi-jihadi radical interpretation of Islam take center stage. When
the front stabilizes and the intensity of the fight subsides, such questions will return
and the inherent weakness of ISIS will resurface. ISIS is an extremely capable force,
but its battle achievements do not make it any more appealing as a government. To
succeed in the competition with ISIS, al Qaeda could try to outdo it in some way --
through advances against the Assad regime, quality operations in the Arabian Peninsula
and in North Africa, and attacks in the West. Still, given the weakening of al Qaeda’s
central command, the limitations of its franchises, and this most recent blow to its
reputation, its ability to recover is far from certain.
BARAK MENDELSOHN is an Associate Professor of political science at Haverford College and a Senior Fellow at
the Foreign Policy Research Institute (FPRI). Follow him on Twitter @BarakMendelsohn.
State of Confusion
ISIS' Strategy and How to Counter It
William McCants
A Kurdish fighter keeps guard against Islamic State militants near Mosul in northern Iraq, August 19,
2014.
YOUSSEF BOUDLAL / COURTESY REUTERS
In 2005, Ayman al-Zawahiri, deputy head of al Qaeda, had a killer idea: the al Qaeda
franchise in Iraq (AQI) should declare an Islamic state. In a letter to Abu Musab al-
Zarqawi, the brutal leader of AQI, Zawahiri explained how it would work. The Islamic
state, he wrote, would fill security vacuums around Iraq left by departing American
forces. Once the Islamic state successfully fended off the attacks from neighboring
countries that would undoubtedly follow, it could proclaim the reestablishment of the
caliphate, the one-man institution that had ruled a vast empire in early Islamic history.
For the scheme to succeed, Zawahiri warned Zarqawi, al Qaeda had to make sure that
the Sunni masses supported the project.
Once it was loosed into the world, Zawahiri’s idea was too powerful for him or the al
Qaeda leadership to control. By 2006, long before the American withdrawal and far too
early to have built up much popular backing, AQI had established Zawahiri’s Islamic
state. The new head of AQI after Zarqawi’s death, Abu Ayyub al-Masri, dissolved his
organization and pledged his allegiance to a new “commander of the faithful,” Abu
Omar al-Baghdadi, who purportedly controlled the Dawlat al Iraq al Islamiyya, or the
Islamic State.
Baghdadi’s title confused the jihadist community. In medieval Islam, “commander of the
faithful” was usually reserved for the caliphs. Was Baghdadi claiming to be the caliph?
And what of Mullah Omar, to whom al Qaeda’s leaders had already pledged allegiance?
The name of the group was also puzzling. The word for “state” in Arabic is dawla. Was
the new group claiming to be a dawla in the modern sense, an institution jihadists
believe is un-Islamic? Or was the Dawlat al Iraq al Islamiyya simply an ode to the great
caliphate Dawla Abbasiyya?
The Islamic State was not eager to dispel the ambiguity. It either liked implying that it
had more power than it actually possessed or believed that the jihadist community was
not ready to tolerate the full freight of its claims. Ambiguous audacity captured the
imagination and was thus the key to the group’s power.
Although Zawahiri had first suggested the idea of establishing a state, he and the other
al Qaeda leaders were blindsided by its early realization. Writing four years after the
ISI was declared, Adam Gadahn, an American al Qaeda operative, confided in a private
letter that “the decision to declare the State was taken without consultation from
al’Qaida leadership,” a move that “caused a split in the Mujahidin ranks and their
supporters inside and outside Iraq.”
Al Qaeda’s official position, nevertheless, was to endorse the fait accompli, probably in
an effort to keep a hand in the Iraq game and avoid further dissension in the ranks. “I
want to clarify that there is nothing in Iraq by the name of al Qaeda,” proclaimed
Zawahiri in a December 2007 question-and-answer session. “Rather, the organization of
[AQI] merged, by the grace of God, with other jihadi groups in the Islamic State of Iraq,
may God protect it. It is a legitimate emirate established on a legitimate and sound
method. It was established through consultation and won the oath of allegiance from
most of the mujahids and tribes in Iraq.” But neither point was true, as al Qaeda leaders
privately groused.
Al Qaeda may have ratified its affiliate’s decision to disband after the fact, but it was
still an open question as to whether the Islamic State was subordinate to al Qaeda
Central or an altogether independent entity. The state itself never addressed the
question, again relying on ambiguity to imply greater power and independence than it
actually possessed. And al Qaeda’s leaders made the fateful decision never to dispel
that uncertainty.
From private documents, though, we know that al Qaeda Central believed that the
Islamic State was under its authority. In his private letter, for one, Gadahn claims as
much. The United States also uncovered a paper trail of documents from 2007 and 2008
attesting to that fact. Al Qaeda Central ordered the Islamic State of Iraq to carry out
attacks, for example, against Halliburton in 2007 and the Danes in 2008. Al Qaeda
Central also asked for information on the state’s personnel and expenditures. When the
group refused to answer corruption charges leveled by one of its former officials, al
Qaeda Central summoned Masri, the group’s war minister and previously the head of
AQI, to the woodshed in “Khorasan” (Afghanistan or Pakistan).
Whatever control al Qaeda exercised over the Islamic State of Iraq had further eroded
by 2011, either because the Islamic State rarely heard from al Qaeda Central owing to
U.S. counterterrorism measures or because the state did not want to listen to its
superior. As Gadahn put it in his letter, “Operational relations between the leadership
of al-Qaeda and the State have been cut off for quite some time.”
Still, there was no formal break between the two organizations. Even Abu Muhammad
al-Adnani, the Islamic State’s spokesman, who today denies that the Islamic State of
Iraq ever pledged an oath to obey al Qaeda, acknowledges that it was “loyal” to al
Qaeda’s commanders and addressed them as such, and that it continued to abide by al
Qaeda’s guidance on attacks outside Iraq. For example, he says, the group refrained
from ever attacking Iran (even though its soldiers demanded it) out of deference to al
Qaeda’s desire to “protect its interests and its supply lines in Iran.” The Islamic State
also held back from carrying out attacks in Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, and Tunisia
because al Qaeda asked it to. But when it came to targeting decisions inside Iraq, the
spokesman contends that it never followed al Qaeda’s “repeated request” to stop
targeting Shiites. And, in his telling, al Qaeda Central never issued a direct command or
asked about the disposition of its forces inside Iraq. When al Qaeda’s leaders expelled
the group in 2014 for its disobedience, Adnani retorted that al Qaeda could not disown
what had never belonged to it in the first place.
Adnani is lying, has a poor memory, or is unaware of high-level discussions between the
Islamic State of Iraq and al Qaeda Central. Al Qaeda certainly inquired about the
Islamic State's troops and issued requests and demands for it to change its targets,
modify its tactics, and reform its bureaucracy, as the documents from 2007 and 2008
demonstrate. That al Qaeda usually couched its instructions in polite language does not
mean al Qaeda expected the Islamic State to ignore them.
There are many reasons the Islamic State grew unruly, some of them bureaucratic -- it
is hard to govern a terrorist group remotely, especially when even the local leader loses
control of a corrupt faction of the group -- others security related -- many of al Qaeda
Central’s messages were delayed or simply did not get through because of U.S.
counterterrorism measures. But other al Qaeda affiliates bedeviled by the same
infighting and hardships had never revolted. What separates them from the Islamic
State of Iraq is also what explains its aberrant behavior: the group came to believe its
own propaganda that it was, in fact, a state. Its flag -- and not al Qaeda’s -- had become
the symbol of the global jihad. Even al Qaeda’s own affiliates flew it. Jihadist fanboys
online counted the days since the state’s establishment. And after the Islamic State
began to control territory in 2012, it could truly claim to be a state in fact and not just
in theory.
When, in 2013, the Islamic State (now calling itself the Islamic State of Iraq and al-
Sham, or ISIS) proclaimed its authority over Syria and Iraq, Zawahiri demanded that it
renounce that claim and return to Iraq. The response of ISIS’ emir was dismissive: “I
have chosen the command of my Lord over the command in the message that
contradicts it.” Months later, ISIS proclaimed itself the caliphate, rallying many in the
global jihadist community to its side. It is far more exciting to be fighting for a caliphate
that has returned than for a distant promise of its return under al Qaeda. Zawahiri’s
killer idea had taken on a life of its own, dismembering al Qaeda and replacing it as
leader of the global jihad.
Despite ISIS’ success in capturing jihadists’ imagination, the idea of an Islamic state
has one fatal flaw: its physical incarnation makes it vulnerable to attack. Take away the
state’s territory and expose its brutality and rapaciousness, and you discredit the
standard-bearer of the idea. You may even discredit the idea itself. As Adnani prayed in
a recent message, if this state is false, then may God “break its back . . . and guide its
soldiers to the truth.” The United States and its allies should do everything they can to
ensure that the higher power does indeed destroy the state -- and expose the truth.
WILLIAM MCCANTS is a Fellow in the Center for Middle East Policy and Director of the Project on U.S. Relations
with the Islamic World at the Brookings Institution.
The Women of ISIS
Understanding and Combating Female Extremism
Nimmi Gowrinathan
Iraqi Islamist women hold a counter protest during a pro-women's rights rally in Baghdad, August 2005.
COURTESY REUTERS
Reports that women have formed their own brigade within the Islamic State of Iraq and
al-Sham (ISIS) have confounded experts -- and worried them. For many, the idea of
women as violent extremists seems paradoxical. After all, why should women want to
join a political struggle that so blatantly oppresses them?
That question reveals more about the experts than the fighters. Those who ask it
assume, first, that women are more peaceful than men by nature; and second, that
women who participate in armed rebellion are little more than cannon fodder in a man’s
game, fighting foolishly for a movement that will not benefit them. As the women of
ISIS prove, both assumptions are false.
To understand the women of ISIS and their motivations, it helps to place them in their
historical context, among the legions of women in El Salvador, Eritrea, Nepal, Peru, and
Sri Lanka who voluntarily joined violent movements and militias, sometimes even as
highly ranked officers. In each of these cases, women joined for the same basic reasons
as men. Living in deeply conservative social spaces, they faced constant threats to their
ethnic, religious, or political identities -- and it was typically those threats, rather than
any grievances rooted in gender, that persuaded them to take up arms.
ISIS’ particularly inhumane violence can obscure the fact that the conflict in Iraq is also
rooted in identity: at its base, the fight is a sectarian struggle between Sunni and Shiite
Muslims, with several smaller minorities caught in between. It makes sense, therefore,
that the all-female al Khansaa Brigade of ISIS relies heavily on identity politics for
recruitment, targeting young women who feel oppressed as Sunni Muslims. Indeed,
anonymous fatwas calling for single women to join the fight for an Islamic caliphate
have been attractive enough to draw women to ISIS from beyond the region.
BEYOND GENDER
To be sure, for women, gender and politics can overlap in ways that they do not for
men.
For most female fighters, the path to the battlefield is a brutal one. Many are driven to
fight by a practical desire for safety. In war zones across the world, women absorb a
disproportionate amount of the fallout from conflict, including material deprivation in
refugee camps, daily harassment and fear in militarized zones, and a constant
vulnerability to rape. Joining the fight is sometimes the only way to survive.
In 2005, I visited Sri Lanka to understand what drove women to join the Liberation
Tigers of Tamil Eelam, a separatist terrorist group that sought an independent Tamil
state on the island while also preserving culturally entrenched gender roles. For female
commanders, security appeared to be a primary motivator. “The constant fear of living
in militarized areas made me realize that life is unfair for Tamils,” said one commander.
(For safety reasons, the commanders declined to be named.) “So, I wanted to fight for
equal rights.”
Other female Tigers cited rape, or the fear of rape, by government forces as a central
reason for joining the movement. As both a political act and a gendered one, rape is a
unique motivator. “I was vulnerable because I was a woman, but I was targeted because
I was a Tamil,” said another female commander, reflecting the inherent difficulty of
navigating between identities. Indeed, in the confusion of war, survival can depend on
choosing which identity to prioritize. Tamil women, for example, often recognized the
patriarchy of the Tamil movement yet still fought for it, tying their hopes for long-term
security to a nationalist flag.
Consider the case of another Tamil commander I met, who spent her days patrolling
local villages and posting leaflets that listed appropriate dress, hairstyle, and behavior
for Tamil women: no short skirts, no short hair, no biking unless seated sideways. She
herself sported combat boots and wore her hair short and closely cropped. I asked her
how she reconciled the rules on the leaflets with her own decision to buck gender roles
and take up arms. She said, “I fight to protect these values, to preserve the Tamil
identity from being eliminated by the oppressor.” The role of women thus becomes the
anchor for the construction of a national identity.
At first glance, the experiences of women fighters in Sri Lanka seem to have little to do
with the experiences of women fighters in Iraq, particularly because ISIS is so radically
violent -- reports have surfaced of ISIS soldiers slashing women’s stomachs and burying
children alive -- and so conservative toward women. But they are more similar to their
counterparts in Sri Lanka and other conflict-ridden countries than they appear. As
elsewhere, most Iraqi women take up arms because they fear for their safety or because
they feel ISIS represents their political interests. In many cases, violence also appears
to be the only available means of political expression. For many women, and especially
for women from the marginalized Sunni community, violence becomes a vehicle for
political agency.
ENDING EXTREMISM
To combat female extremism, the West must understand the grievances that motivate
women to fight and then eliminate them. The usual fixes -- providing financial or
occupational support to young women and girls, for example -- are unlikely to work, as
women in war zones are deeply marginalized in every area of their lives. This sort of aid
is important, of course, but it does not do enough: women in war zones, in addition to
being poor, lack access to politics; and when they are unable to air their grievances
publicly and nonviolently, extremism becomes more tempting.
Ironically, of course, female extremism rarely yields gains for women’s rights. In
Eritrea, for example, after the victory of the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front, a
secessionist movement in Ethiopia, female fighters were given control of social policy
but had no real political voice. It appears likely that women in the envisioned Islamic
State in Iraq will also be marginalized after the conflict ends.
If the West is ever to truly understand the women of ISIS, it must also reevaluate its
preconceptions about gender and violence. In Iraq, Gaza, and elsewhere, the media are
quick to paint women as victims and men as violent perpetrators. But that isn’t always
true. And this limited understanding of women’s role in violence has implications
beyond the conflict itself. Indeed, peacekeeping initiatives often leave women out of
strategic discussions, relegating them to tasks explicitly concerning women’s rights.
This approach is unsustainable. In the end, peace is built through the inclusion of
diverse perspectives, and so long as gendered assumptions persist, female voices will
go unheard. Women fight for personal as well as political power, often sacrificing one
for the other. If the world ignores that fact, it will miss a chance to deal with the
identity politics that sustain war.
NIMMI GOWRINATHAN is a Fellow at the Center for Conflict, Negotiation and Recovery and the Gender Expert for
the UN National Human Development Report in Afghanistan.
Syria's Democracy Jihad
Why ISIS Fighters Support the Vote
Free Army fighters walk in a field of flowers during a reconnaissance mission, April 10, 2014.
KHALIL ASHAWI / COURTESY REUTERS
In the spring of 2011, it would have been impossible to predict that in Syria, in a few
years’ time, many of the pro-democracy activists who built a peaceful movement to
bring down President Bashar al-Assad’s dictatorship would be turning to jihadist groups
that are now embroiled in the bloody civil war. Over the past year, the Free Syrian
Army (FSA), once regarded as a force of moderate, secular democratic reformers, has
partnered with—some members have even defected to—various moderate and radical
Islamist groups, including the al Qaeda–linked al-Nusra Front and the Islamic State of
Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS).
This trend is perplexing given the fundamentally incompatible values of jihadists and
democratic revolutionaries, especially on the basics: human rights, tolerance, and
political pluralism. To understand this paradox, we conducted a survey of 50 Islamist
fighters from Ahrar al-Sham and al-Nusra, along with several sheiks, who were
educated in Saudi Arabia. These surveys were conducted as part of our broader Voices
of Syria project, which includes over 500 interviews with Syrian civilians, rebel
fighters, and refugees in Syria and Turkey. In order to safely conduct interviews with
Ahrar al-Sham and al-Nusra fighters in Idlib, our interviewer had to seek permission
from the informal Islamic court that has jurisdiction over the territory occupied by
those particular brigades. All interviews were conducted face-to-face, privately, and
anonymously.
Based on our research in Syria from late April to early May 2014, the Islamist fighters
we interviewed were surprisingly supportive of democracy. In the long-besieged
province of Idlib, about 40 miles west of Aleppo, we found that 60 percent of the
Islamist fighters we interviewed from Ahrar al-Sham and the al Qaeda–affiliated al-
Nusra agreed that “democracy is preferable to any other form of governance.” Further,
78 percent of these Islamists also strongly agreed that “it is essential for Syria to
remain a unified state,” which seems to contradict the goal of building a more
encompassing Islamic caliphate. Although this finding may seem at odds with the
theocratic aims of Islamist groups, we suspect that Islamists are rethinking their
position on democracy in order to widen their ideological net and recruit more fighters.
With the Syrian civil war in its third year, however, the FSA has been unable to fulfill its
revolutionary promise. Its forces have been decimated by the combined onslaughts of
well-financed jihadist groups and an Assad regime reinvigorated by the lack of Western
intervention and staunch support from Russia and Iran. The FSA’s corruption,
infighting, and poor organizational capacity have also significantly eroded the trust and
confidence of its soldiers, many of whom have left.
For Islamic brigades, the FSA’s fragmentation has presented an opportunity to draw
new members into their own ranks by demonstrating that their leadership skills,
organization, and resources have allowed the groups to succeed in battle where the
FSA could not. Some former FSA fighters we interviewed switched to Islamist groups
not out of inspiration for jihad, but because of poor fighting conditions inside the FSA.
“I was with my old group [FSA] until I fought with Ahrar al-Sham,” stated one former
FSA fighter. “I liked their way of treating fighters, so I joined.” In particular, Islamist
groups are seen to provide better care for injured fighters. One rebel fighter who
switched from the FSA to Ahrar al-Sham told us, “My friend got injured and they [FSA]
didn’t support him.” Second, the Islamists pandered to moderate skeptics by
emphasizing their common cause—the removal of Assad—and downplaying their desire
for an Islamic state, leading new converts to believe that Syria’s future would be
decided by its people.
Indeed, 94 percent of the Islamist rebel fighters we interviewed have retained their
revolutionary goals to defeat the Assad regime. And only a quarter of the ostensibly
“Islamist” rebels claimed that their goal is “to build an Islamic state” in Syria. This
finding suggests that many rank-and-file fighters may have purely strategic motives in
fighting under an Islamist banner—they just want to see Assad go.
For Islamist groups, this pool of committed fighters is but a fleeting advantage. As long
as Islamists remain committed to liberating Syria from Assad, the rebels will fight with
them. But if the war is won, the Syrian rebels may not commit to the broader principles
of jihad or show any interest in building an Islamic state. To try to prevent that from
happening, Islamist groups have invested heavily in the reeducation of new recruits
through daily religious lectures delivered not by fellow Syrians but by sheiks trained in
Saudi Arabia.
This strategy seems to be paying off. Nearly three-quarters of the Islamist fighters we
surveyed claimed to have grown more religious since the war began. “Under the Assad
regime, we did not know true Islam, but after the revolution, the hardship we
experienced forced us to be closer to God,” explained one Syrian fighter who joined the
FSA but later switched to al-Nusra. “Religion gives us inner peace, which is exactly
what we need now in the war zone, when everyone left us.” Taking advantage of the
rebels’ generally low levels of education and cursory understanding of democracy,
Islamist lecturers condemn the evils of Western-style democracy and tout the benefits
of an Islamic state. The fatal flaw in Western democracy, they argue, is the separation
of state and religion, which they portray as an absolute prohibition of religious practice;
and in the absence of sharia law, corruption, prostitution, drug use, and other vices
flourish. The sheiks also teach that Western secularism is responsible for Assad’s
corruption and brutality. As one sheik explained, “Assad is committing crimes because
he is secular, and he is secular because of Western influence.” Another sheik explained
to us in a private interview:
"Democracy has had it all wrong from the very beginning. I have read about and
researched [the origins of] democracy. Democracy is itself a kind of crazy religion,
where the people are given the control, ruling the country through elections. Elections
existed in the old days of Islam, but only the virtuous people in society—those with good
reputations—were allowed to vote. But in today’s world, people have become corrupt. If
we ask these people to vote, to elect someone to be in charge, then they will choose the
biggest thief among themselves. That’s why I am against democracy, against rule by the
people. Democracy, in today’s sense, is bad because it does not encourage people to
live by sharia law."
It is currently unclear how the Islamists’ version of democracy might work in practice.
But according to the sheik quoted above, it might offer candidates the choice of opting
out of certain Islamic practices but offer incentives to opt in. The sheik explained his
idea of religious freedom with the following example: “When al-Nusra took control of
Idlib, they said that girls will have a choice at school whether to wear the niqab or not.
But if they want to wear it, the school will provide the niqab for free.” By incorporating
themes of liberation from tyranny into jihadist rhetoric, Islamist groups have
successfully appealed to moderate supporters of the Syrian revolution. Since the
average Syrian has at best vague notions of democracy, having lived only under
dictatorial rule, co-opting democratic values for jihadist purposes is not as odd as it
might seem: both democratic and jihadist movements have historically involved bloody
uprisings that seek to overturn prior political and social orders.
Finally, by reframing the struggle for jihad as a quest to preserve the right of religious
expression, Islamist groups have also bolstered their recruitment efforts inside Western
democracies. We interviewed four foreign fighters who came from Saudi Arabia,
France, Russia, and Algeria. As one of them remarked, “Democracy is freedom and in
particular freedom of opinion and choice. So I personally choose al-Nusra.”
VERA MIRONOVA is a doctoral candidate at the University of Maryland. LOUBNA MRIE is a Syrian journalist.
RICHARD NIELSEN is Assistant Professor of Political Science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. SAM
WHITT is Assistant Professor of Political Science at High Point University in North Carolina.
Blood Money
How ISIS Makes Bank
Louise Shelley
Damage at an oil refinery that was targeted by what activists said were U.S. strikes near the Syrian
town of Tel Abyad, October 2, 2014.
COURTESY REUTERS
A key element of U.S. President Barack Obama’s strategy against the Islamic State of
Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) has been striking at the oil fields seized by the group to
undermine its finances. But ISIS is a diversified criminal business, and oil is only one of
its several revenue streams. U.S. officials ignore that fact at their own peril.
It is true that oil is ISIS’ key source of funding right now. The terrorist group has
become the world’s richest precisely because it has seized some of the world’s most
profitable oil fields in Iraq and Syria. Even with those fields operating below capacity
due to a lack of technology and personnel, ISIS is estimated to be producing about
44,000 barrels a day in Syria and 4,000 barrels a day in Iraq. ISIS sells crude at a
discount (around $20–$35 per barrel) to either truckers or middlemen. The crude gets
to refiners at around $60 per barrel, which is still under market price. Smugglers pay
about $5,000 in bribes at checkpoints to move the crude oil out of ISIS controlled
territory. Even selling the oil at a discount via pre-invasion smuggling routes out of
Iraq, ISIS can still expect over a million dollars in revenue each day.
And ISIS’ enemies are getting richer from the trade, too: Kurdish part-time smugglers
who facilitate ISIS’ oil sales can earn up to $300,000 each month. A Kurdish newspaper
recently published a list of people involved with ISIS, especially its oil operations. The
list includes individuals with the last names of several Kurdish ruling families; a Toyota
branch in Erbil, which sells ISIS trucks; a Politburo member and military leader; and oil
refineries, among others. Some of those on the list were associated with oil smuggling
under Saddam Hussein. Kurdish facilitators also provide goods to ISIS, including
trucks, gas cylinders (for cooking and heating), gasoline, and other necessary
commodities.
Oil is not ISIS’ only source of revenue. For example, when the group needed seed
capital to recruit personnel and acquire military equipment to conquer the Sunni-
dominated areas of Iraq, some of it came from donors in the Gulf States, who had
funded the antecedents of ISIS. More recently, ISIS funding has come from the usual
terrorist businesses—smuggling, kidnapping, extortion, and robberies. In one reported
case, a Swedish company paid $70,000 to rescue an employee who had been taken by
ISIS. And before the American journalist James Foley was beheaded, ISIS fighters
demanded an exorbitant sum for his freedom, which they did not receive.
Still more funding comes from the sale of counterfeit cigarettes, pharmaceuticals, cell
phones, antiquities, and foreign passports. The trafficking of some of these commodities
into Turkey from Syria has risen dramatically. For example, cigarette smuggling has
increased, fuel smuggling is estimated to have tripled, and cell phone smuggling has risen fivefold.
ISIS is also taxing black market antiquities at 20–50 percent, depending on the region and
type of antiquity. Meanwhile, foreign fighters sell their passports for thousands of
dollars in Turkey before entering Syria, where the proceeds help fund them and ISIS.
These particular forms of illicit trade are attractive to terrorists because there is less
competition, less regulation, and limited law enforcement in these markets compared to
others, such as the arms and narcotics trades.
These days, ISIS in many ways resembles a legitimate business. It has diverse revenue
sources, seeks and develops new profit lines, and focuses on its most successful
products and competitive advantages. ISIS was smuggling oil in Syria before its fighters
entered Iraq. The lure of those better oil fields might have been one of the reasons it
expanded its operations. ISIS is also entrepreneurial—for example, it has obtained
several modular mini-refineries, which are low cost, low capacity, and mobile. The U.S.
Department of Defense has targeted about a dozen of these facilities. ISIS leaders are
rational business actors, too. They seek the best professional services; engage in cost-
benefit analysis, focusing on crimes that yield the highest reward with the lowest risk;
and use advanced technology to recruit personnel globally.
ISIS leaders’ talent for business is not surprising. Although the group has its fair share
of ideological fanatics, it also includes foreign fighters that have extensive criminal
expertise, such as the Georgian militant Tarkhan Batirashvili, known by his nom de
guerre Sheikh Abu Omar al-Shishani, who was arrested for illegally harboring weapons.
Of ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi's 25 deputies in Iraq and Syria, approximately a
third served in the military during Saddam Hussein’s rule, and nearly all were
imprisoned by American forces after the 2003 invasion, often with terrorists and
insurgents who are now in ISIS. These experienced Baathists can tap into the illicit
smuggling networks of the Saddam era.
In other words, ISIS already had years of expertise in outsmarting the West as it
establishes front companies, bribes officials, and launders money. And, with its greatest
revenue stream—oil—under attack, it can easily adjust the balance of its portfolio to
favor non-oil activity. What’s more, now that the group actually controls territory, it can
squeeze the local population and businesses for cash and taxes, just as the Taliban did
to great effect in Afghanistan.
The United States and other governments, expecting strikes on ISIS-held oil facilities to
be a silver bullet, have failed to adequately engage the business community, which
could provide enormous insight into ISIS’ operations. To undermine an economic
competitor, you must do more than cut off its key funding—you have to go after its
business and business models. In other words, it takes business to defeat an illicit
business.
To prevent firms in Kurdish Iraq from selling trucks to ISIS or helping refine oil, the
West could do more to ensure that the government in Baghdad pays good prices for the
oil that it is obtaining from Kurdish Iraq and shares its revenues with the region. The
failure of the central government to do so means that businesses will seek alternative
customers—even bad ones.
The effort to counter ISIS should also involve Western businesses. The cigarette
industry follows the ebb and flow of the illicit cigarette trade. Energy and
pharmaceutical companies monitor the movement of their commodities in the region.
Transport companies have insights into the dynamics of illicit trade, and insurance
companies have insights into kidnapping. That is why public-private partnerships are
key. Corporations can share the information they already collect on illicit trade routes,
smuggling shipments, and key facilitators. They can also warn consumers not to
purchase the counterfeit and smuggled commodities that fund terrorism.
For now, the government response to ISIS has not taken the business community
enough into account. But without such cooperation, Washington cannot hope to
successfully counter the nimble ISIS.
LOUISE SHELLEY is University Professor at George Mason University and Director of the Terrorism, Transnational
Crime, and Corruption Center (TraCCC). She is the author of Dirty Entanglements: Corruption, Crime, and
Terrorism.
ISIS Sends a Message
What Gestures Say About Today’s Middle East
Nathaniel Zelinsky
A masked man brandishes a severed head in one hand. In the other, he raises an index
finger, a commonly understood symbol for the number one.
His name is Abdel Majed Abdel Bary, a failed London rapper turned jihadist, a British
militant fighting for the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), also known as the
Islamic State. British authorities suspect him of murdering American journalists Steven
Sotloff and James Foley. In August, Bary posted a gruesome picture -- from a different
killing -- on his Twitter account for the world to see.
The curious thing was not the head Bary held in his left hand -- however ghoulish the
trophy -- but the gesture he made with his right. For followers of ISIS, a single raised
index finger has become a sign of their cause, and it is increasingly common in
photographs of militants. Some have even gone so far as to call the symbol “the jihadi
equivalent of a gang sign.”
The Middle East and its upheavals are no strangers to gestures. Over the past year, a
variety of groups, ranging from the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt to the Kurds in Iraq,
have used at least four distinct hand signals. These symbols communicate complex
political messages that Western observers have largely ignored. That lapse is certainly
understandable: next to a severed head, the number one is easy to overlook.
Yet gestures -- in particular ISIS’ index finger -- should demand far more attention. They
are an important means by which regional groups communicate their core messages to
viewers down the street and observers thousands of miles away in Europe and the
United States. To understand the ideologies such groups aim to export, one needs to
understand the symbols they use.
SIGNALS INTELLIGENCE
Gestures are as old as politics itself. They became especially important, however, with
the advent of mass media in the twentieth century. Consider what is perhaps the best-
known example: Adolf Hitler’s fascist salute. In a single gesture, Hitler communicated
the power of National Socialism, the obedience of German crowds, and his own role as
a supreme leader. And because pictures of him saluting were printed in newspapers
around the world, the symbol reached billions.
Each subsequent advance in media technology has made it easier for political messages
to reach mass audiences. But the Internet changed the rules of the game,
democratizing the entire process of image making. Today, anyone with a cell phone can
broadcast an image in an instant -- which is exactly what Bary did.
When ISIS militants hold up a single index finger on their right hands, they are alluding
to the tawhid, the belief in the oneness of God and a key component of the Muslim
religion. The tawhid comprises the first half of the shahada, which is an affirmation of
faith, one of the five pillars of Islam, and a component of daily prayers: “There is no god
but Allah, Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.”
It is no surprise, then, that the shahada features prominently in ISIS’ public image. The
group’s black flag bears the vow’s words in white Arabic script (as does Hamas’ and
even Saudi Arabia’s). And Muslims have long associated a single index finger with the
shahada in a variety of contexts, ranging from daily prayers to conversions.
But for ISIS, the symbol is more sinister than a mere declaration of monotheistic
beliefs. As Salafi jihadists, members of the group adhere to a fundamentalist
interpretation of tawhid that rejects non-fundamentalist regimes as idolatrous. In other
words, the concept of tawhid is central to ISIS’ violent and uncompromising posture
toward its opponents, both in the Middle East and in the West.
When ISIS militants display the sign, to one another or to a photographer, they are
actively reaffirming their dedication to that ideology, whose underlying principle
demands the destruction of the West. If rank-and-file soldiers are aware of the precise
theological implications of their sign -- and it would be no surprise if they are -- that
would be a sobering comment on their deep-seated opposition to pluralism.
The gesture is equally important for what it means to Westerners, most of whom cannot
read Arabic. By raising their index fingers, militants send an easy-to-understand
message of the group’s goals of theological supremacy and military hegemony. When
potential ISIS recruits in London, New York, or Sydney see the symbol on Twitter, they
can grasp the scale of ISIS’ ambitions and its underlying aims. At some visceral level,
less-radicalized viewers understand that it means dominance.
If ISIS has the solitary finger, its opponents have the so-called V-for-Victory gesture,
popular among Iraqi soldiers and the Kurdish militia. Originally devised by the British
Broadcasting Corporation as a sign of the Allied powers during World War II, the V has
been used in the Middle East since its creation in 1941. At various moments in history,
a wide array of groups has appropriated the symbol, among them Palestinian terrorists,
Iranians who took part in the failed “green revolution,” and Egyptians in Tahrir Square.
As the diversity of its devotees suggests, the V has less rigidly defined political
dimensions than the raised finger. It is a general symbol of defiance, protest, and self-
expression without intellectual meaning. (The V is so generic, in fact, that supporters of
ISIS have also displayed it in photographs.) But in some ways, the use of the V cuts to
the core of what the opposition to ISIS is all about -- a collection of factions with
differing aims and worldviews bound together only by a fear of the Islamic State.
Whereas ISIS’ followers are unified by fundamentalist ideals, its opponents are not
equally united.
A Kurdish woman making a victory sign in Turkey, December 2009. (Umit Bektas /
Courtesy Reuters)
FREEDOM OF GESTURE
ISIS and its opponents are not the only groups in the region making use of gestures.
Two other symbols have been visible in the region over the past year, and they provide
important context for ISIS’ index finger signal.
One gesture emerged when Hamas operatives kidnapped three Israeli teenagers last
July. Palestinians celebrated the news by jubilantly thrusting three fingers in the air,
one for each of the hostages Israel would have to ransom by releasing convicted
terrorists from jail. Called the “three Shalits,” after the IDF-soldier-turned-hostage
Gilad Shalit, the symbol quickly spread across the Arab world via social media, in many
cases with young children posing for the camera and proudly showing three fingers.
As with ISIS’ signal, this new gesture’s intended message was easy to comprehend:
ordinary Palestinians supported Hamas and its tactics. However, where Western media
has been slow to identify the significance of ISIS’ sigil, the Israeli press and some U.S.
media outlets quickly highlighted the meaning and implications of the “three Shalits.”
At one level, the difference in responses is not surprising: the pro-Hamas symbol
appeared across the West Bank and was a more immediate concern to Israel, physically
and politically, than ISIS’ gesture seems to be to the West.
The second symbol, championed by the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, was widespread
a year ago, but has since begun to disappear. Last summer, Mohammed Morsi, who was
president of Egypt, clashed with the country’s army in a contest that ended with his fall
from power. In one incident, the army killed hundreds of Morsi’s followers at the Rabaa
al-Adawiya mosque. The word Rabaa means “four” in Egypt, and the Brotherhood
quickly adopted a four-fingered hand gesture as its symbol.
In rallies from Cairo to Istanbul, Brotherhood supporters held up yellow signs with a
Rabaa hand-gesture printed in black, wore Rabaa buttons, and made the signal with
their own hands. It was an attempt to remind Egyptians and the world of the Army’s
massacre and shift the narrative away from Morsi’s failed democratic promises.
Since the Egyptian army deposed Morsi, it has worked hard to quash the Rabaa,
banning the country’s Olympic athletes from making the gesture in Sochi this past
winter. The Brotherhood’s supporters, meanwhile, have tried to keep it alive, hosting a
worldwide “Rabaa day” this past August. The army’s efforts seem to be paying off, as
the gesture and its underlying message are petering out somewhat from the
international stage. If the Rabaa is a bellwether for the health of the Muslim
Brotherhood, don’t bet on the group returning to power any time soon.
For governments in the West, the Rabaa should raise an important question: When ISIS’
index finger reaches their shores, do they follow the Egyptian model of suppression? Or
do they honor principles of free expression? Dilemmas of free speech, of course, are
nothing new. European authorities have grappled with a similar question with regard to
the so-called quenelle, an anti-Semitic gesture that resembles a reversed Hitler salute.
French officials have taken a hard line, attempting to bar the comedian Dieudonne
M’bala M’bala, who invented the quenelle, from performing in the country. The French
Football Association has disciplined soccer players for displaying the quenelle in
matches. But it seems that attempting to suppress the gesture has been far from
effective, turning Dieudonne into a martyr for free expression.
A Morsi supporter waves a flag bearing the Rabaa, May 2014. (Mohamed Abd El Ghany
/ Courtesy Reuters)
Middle Eastern gestures, meanwhile, have already made their way west. In some cases,
they have met with censorship: Facebook took down a public group that encouraged
users to upload photos expressing support for kidnappings carried out by Hamas with a
three-fingered salute. If any gesture were to be banned, it would be the raised index
finger, which already cropped up at a pro-ISIS rally in The Hague at the end of July.
However, measures to criminalize ISIS’ hallmark would, as in the case of the quenelle,
likely backfire, turning ISIS supporters into victims of censorship.
At the very least, Westerners need to become more attuned to what the gesture means.
It is doubtful that most Dutch citizens understood the radical ideas behind the raised
index fingers in The Hague, and one could say the same of publics in other Western
countries. Their continued ignorance will only make it more difficult to evaluate the
threat ISIS poses in the Middle East.
NATHANIEL ZELINSKY is a Paul Mellon Scholar at Clare College, the University of Cambridge.
Securing al-Sham
Syria and the Violence in Iraq
Andrew J. Tabler
A member of the Kurdish Peshmerga troops in Salahuddin, Iraq, June 21, 2014.
YAHYA AHMAD / COURTESY REUTERS
Uprooting the Islamic State of Iraq and al Sham (ISIS) from the swath of territory it
now holds between Aleppo and Baghdad will take a lot more than airstrikes or a change
of government in Iraq. Although the 2003 war in Iraq might have led to the formation of
the jihadi group, the chaos in Syria provided it the space to metastasize. To prevent
ISIS -- and other such organizations -- from building a permanent safe haven in Iraq and
Syria, then, Washington must help settle Syria by supporting Sunni tribes and other
moderate opposition groups there.
FRACTURED FRONT
Over the last week, the Obama administration has focused its attention on pushing Iraqi
Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki (or whoever might replace him) to be more inclusive of
the country’s Sunni Arabs, who make up around 20 percent of the population.
Washington is right to do so. ISIS and the other groups fighting alongside it rely on this
disenchanted community for support. Without Sunni backing, ISIS would crumble and
Iraq could stabilize. To help that process along, the United States could launch
airstrikes against ISIS camps in the country.
Sunni Arabs are an even larger part of the equation in Syria, where they represent
between 65 and 70 percent of the population and make up the backbone of the
opposition to the Alawite Assad regime. Western mediators have urged Assad to
negotiate with Alawites, Shia, and Sunnis. But he has refused, preferring instead to
have himself “re-elected” to a third term as president and to make vague promises of
dialogue with the opposition groups that succumb to the regime’s siege-and-starve
tactics.
Assad might seem like he is in control, but his troops rarely tangle with ISIS, preferring
instead to take on the more moderate factions. In fact, his regime has only been able to
go on the offensive in western Syria with help from Hezbollah, Iraqi Shia militias, and
Iran’s Quds force. When their support disappears, so, too, will Assad’s luck. For
example, when Iraqi Shia militiamen were recently recalled from the Lebanese-Syrian
frontier to fight ISIS in Iraq, Syrian opposition forces quickly reappeared, retook part of
the area, and continued to stage hit-and-run attacks. In other words, Assad and the
rebels are at a stalemate and, unless the West and its Arab allies try something new,
the conflict will persist.
BORDERLANDS
The best way to permanently uproot ISIS is to follow the example of Jordan. In recent
years, Jordan has relied on a two-part strategy to deal with the Syrian crisis: control the
border with Syria and monitor and work with the Syrian opposition to keep radical
rebel groups out of the country’s southern reaches, along the border with Jordan. The
U.S. intelligence community, which has a close relationship with Jordan, has reportedly
participated in this effort.
Moderate groups continue to hold their own in southern Syria, but, as in other areas of
the country, they still rely on coordination with more radical groups to fight the Assad
regime. To prevent those radical groups from spilling into Jordan, Amman closed one of
its border crossings to refugees and reopened it further east, in uncontested territory.
It also worked with Western intelligence agencies to increase covert support for
moderate groups in southern Syria. As a result, ISIS has yet to take root there.
For Turkey to strengthen its own border with northern Syria, it would have to follow
Jordan’s example. So far, though, Ankara has been reluctant to get as strict about
people, money, and weapons crossing its frontier into and out of Syria. There is
considerable risk that militants could retaliate against Turkey if it decided to clamp
down, but surely the Syrians roaming its territory already present such a risk. To help
Turkey make the right call, the United States could promise to use drones or airstrikes
to help Turkey secure the border.
After closing the borders between Syria and Jordan and Syria and Turkey, it will be
time to address the now-gaping border between Syria and Iraq. The best way to do that
is by working with tribes in the area and with selective drone strikes. Sunni tribal
confederations such as the Baggara, Dulaim, Jabbour, N’eim, Qugaidat, Shammar, and
Tai'e extend into Syria and Iraq -- and some even reach into Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and
the United Arab Emirates. These tribes could be made into a bulwark against ISIS and
other jihadists in Syria and Iraq. According to some reports, ISIS has worked to win
over their rank and file by offering basic services. For those that don’t accept such
carrots, the group has used harsh sticks, such as beheadings and crucifixions. Its pull
among the tribal population worries local tribal leaders, who see their influence
slipping.
Arab intelligence agencies can play on these fears by supplying tribal leaders with
lethal and nonlethal assistance. The United States is not in a good position to lead this
effort, since it has no boots on the ground and lacks the qualitative intelligence.
However, Washington should coordinate closely with Arab Gulf countries in supporting
tribes against militant groups, using air power to aid their fight against ISIS.
Another natural bulwark against ISIS and other such groups is Syria’s Kurdish
population in northeast Syria. To stave off the militant threat, the Kurds united two
years ago under the banner of the Kurdish Supreme Committee. The group includes the
radical Democratic Union Party of Syria, which is the Syrian offshoot of the Kurdistan
Workers’ Party, and the more moderate Kurdistan National Council, an alliance of 15
Kurdish political parties. Despite tensions among its members, the alliance has battled
jihadists for the better part of two years. And like their Arab counterparts, the Kurds
are also organized into broad tribal confederations that reach across the border into
Iraq and Turkey.
Sealing off Syria’s external borders -- and its internal one with the Kurdish region --
would help contain jihadist groups and interdict ISIS suicide operators coming to Iraq
while the United States works with the Iraqi government to win over moderate Sunnis
and, possibly, launches drone strikes against ISIS positions. This could be bolstered
through the creation of a U.S. Joint Special Operations Task Force to coordinate cross-
border operations. Meanwhile, allying with the Arab tribes on both sides of the border
will undermine ISIS support in its key Sunni Arab demographic. This could result in a
foreign policy twofer, helping address both the current situation in Iraq and Syria and
the broader jihadist threat over the long term.
SYRIAN SOLUTION
With ISIS hemmed in, the crisis in Iraq would be far easier to manage through
airstrikes and diplomacy.
The world could then turn to the war in Syria. The top-down diplomatic efforts to
resolve the crisis are going nowhere. According to Samantha Power, U.S.
representative to the United Nations, more Syrian civilians died from Assad’s barrel
bombs during this year’s failed peace talks in Geneva than during any other period in
the Syrian war. And that onslaught continues to this day. The best way to keep the
regime from dropping barrel bombs, as well as chlorine gas and other indiscriminate
weapons, would be to shoot down its aircraft.
Providing vetted armed groups with antiaircraft weapons would help the opposition
secure its territory. It would also empower moderates by making them key to defending
against Assad’s onslaught. Although antiaircraft guns would not take care of the
regime’s weapon of choice -- artillery -- civilians would at least have less reason to flee
to Turkey and Jordan, which are already overwhelmed with refugees and fear spillover
violence. The United States could provide the opposition active intelligence to facilitate
such operations.
Now the question is how to channel antiaircraft and other heavy weapons so that they
don’t fall into radicals’ hands. Much has been made of the bickering and petty rivalries
within the Syrian National Coalition (SNC) and the thousand or so armed groups
fighting against the Assad regime. The divisions are partly a reflection of Syria’s
extremely diverse Sunni population -- from the urbane Sunnis representing the
traditional elites, who long collaborated with the regime, to the tribal Sunnis of eastern
Syria and Dera, who cooperated with the regime at arm’s length, to the conservative
Sunnis of northwestern Syria, who have long fought Alawites and the Assad regime.
ISIS and other militant groups, such as the al Qaeda affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra, are
primarily entrenched within the tribal and conservative Sunni populations.
The Supreme Military Council (SMC), an umbrella organization that Arab and Western
intelligence helped set up in late 2012 as the armed wing of the SNC, was meant to
unify rebels’ supply chains, encourage moderates to unite, and empower the SNC on
the ground. Unfortunately, it hasn’t worked, which coalition leaders blame on a lack of
outside support. The problem with the SMC is that, like the SNC, it is beset with petty
rivalries and has at times been infiltrated by radical Salafis. For that reason, it would be
unwise to use the SMC, at least as it exists now, to channel antiaircraft weapons to
moderate rebels.
The other major conduit supporting the rebels has been individual groups vetted by
Western and Arab intelligence agencies, including the Syrian Revolutionary Front and
Harakat Hazm, which have been given American-made antitank missiles. Such vetted
groups stand wholly apart from their more radical counterparts, but their lack of
resources or political agenda has hobbled them. The SMC leadership, moreover, has
criticized Western efforts to supply some groups with weapons as creating warlordism
among the moderate Syrian opposition.
But given the threat that jihadist groups pose in Syria, selective arming seems like the
least bad option. And antiaircraft weapons would come with strings attached. In the
short term, the regional intelligence agencies that are advising moderate groups inside
Syria would be best placed to carry out joint antiaircraft operations until the moderate
Syrian opposition can stand on its own. Over the longer term, the SMC should be
reconstituted as a clear anti-radical force with more tribal leaders and leaders from
vetted groups. As was the clear during the SMC’s initial formation, Arab and Western
intelligence agencies are best placed carry out the task. A new SMC could be the
channel for other heavy weapons as well and the conduit for setting up governments in
opposition areas coordinated with the SNC and other groups in exile.
Eventually, as the SMC’s capabilities increase, the group could fill vacuums in areas
where ISIS and other jihadi groups give way. Eventually, the SMC would fully train its
sights on the Assad regime. Assad, in turn, would come to appreciate that his military
solution to the Syria conflict is doomed to fail and that he needs to return to the
negotiating table.
PAYING UP
For the second time in less than a year, U.S. President Barack Obama is considering
military strikes in the Middle East. Targeted air, missile, and drone attacks could
degrade ISIS’ capabilities and should be used carefully. But they will not fix the region’s
problems -- especially the ongoing war between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.
The United States must start to address those problems by increasing covert support
for border security operations and for the Syrian opposition. To do so, it can tap the $5
billion Counterterrorism Partnerships Fund that Obama recently outlined in a speech at
West Point. This fund aims to expand the training and equipping of foreign militaries,
bolster allied counterterrorism capabilities, and support efforts to counter violence
extremism and terrorist ideology.
Yet Syrians cannot unite around groups armed in the shadows. A much more
comprehensive and overt training and equipping program, as recently introduced in the
National Defense Authorization Act, would help the United States build up moderate
forces in Syria that could effectively combat Assad and deescalate the crisis. Although it
is still unclear which moderate Sunni oppositionists will be part of any final negotiated
settlement, it is clear is that ISIS and other radicals can’t be included.
ANDREW J. TABLER is senior fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy and author of In the Lion’s
Den: An Eyewitness Account of Washington’s Battle with Syria. Follow him on Twitter @andrewtabler.
Radical Turks
Why Turkish Citizens are Joining ISIS
The past few weeks have seen a wave of Muslims from all around the world joining the
ranks of the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS). Although most of the attention has
been on those coming from the United States and Europe, the bulk of foreign fighters
has actually come from Algeria, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, Tunisia, and Turkey.
The flow of jihadists from Turkey is particularly puzzling. For one, in the past, Turkish
citizens have not joined jihadist groups such as al Qaeda in large numbers. In addition,
ISIS advances in Iraq and Syria have come at a high cost to the Turkish people. During
the assault on the Syrian Kurdish town of Kobani in October, for example, Turkish
Kurds took to the street in large numbers, protesting Ankara’s inaction. Riots left
around 50 people dead. More than a thousand buildings, including schools, banks,
health centers, and administrative offices, were burned to the ground. Business
confidence in the Kurdish provinces was severely undermined. Finally, the appeal of
radicalism is hard to square with Turkey’s image as a role model of Muslim democracy.
The country has a history of electoral democracy going back to 1950, longer than any
other Muslim-majority nation in the world, and has been ruled by a moderate Islamist
party since 2002. Theorists have long posited that Islamist political participation would
diminish radicalism as Islamists become stakeholders in the existing system.
SIGN UP
According to recent reports, around 1,000 Turkish citizens have joined ISIS and several
hundred have joined Jabhat al Nusra, the al Qaeda branch in Syria. These numbers
likely underestimate the real scope of jihadist mobilization in Turkey, owing to the weak
patrolling along the Turkish-Syrian border. To get a better sense of who these fighters
are, we generated a new database with information on about 112 individuals who joined
the jihadists. We used open sources such as newspapers, magazines, online news
portals, forums, and blogs to collect biographical information. We also visited Turkey
and attended Islamic circles with pro-jihadist views to develop a better understanding
of the conditions under which Turks radicalize.
The data set reveals several interesting patterns. The jihadists, who are all males, come
from diverse social and economic backgrounds. They include lawyers, merchants, small-
shop owners, university students, and government and private service employees. A
surprisingly high number of them are married. Among the records we have, 31 are
married with children and 37 are not married. The average educational attainment of
the group is higher than the national average, and many of the recruits have stable
jobs. The average age at the time of joining the jihad was 27, significantly older than
Kurdish nationalist fighters in Turkey and Syria. Although the jihadists have diverse
geographic and ethnic origins, Kurds are overrepresented in the sample. Many of the
Kurds in Turkey traveled to Syria to fight against ISIS, but many others joined ISIS or
other Islamist organizations Close to 50 percent of the sample, 51 recruits, are of
Kurdish ethnicity. About a third of the fighters are veterans of earlier jihadist wars in
Bosnia, Chechnya, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Seventeen of them had court records for their
Islamic activities. Most of the rest, though, have no history of political activism.
In other words, when it comes to radicalism in Turkey, something very unusual is going
on.
Over the course of its rule, the AKP has achieved impressive economic growth rates
after a decade of economic mismanagement and political instability. Pious Muslims,
who previously felt like second-class citizens, embraced AKP rule, which put them at
the top of the hierarchy. For a long time, and especially after the Arab uprisings of
2011, the “Turkish model” appeared to offer a way out of the vicious cycle of
authoritarian rule and illiberal Islamist populism that beset many Middle Eastern
regimes.
Yet AKP rule came with some unintended consequences. For one, it led to much more
civic activism overall, because AKP sponsored Islamic organizations both to please its
core supporters and to promote a more pious society. And that burst of activism
facilitated radicalization, because organizations had free rein to pursue their own
intolerant and exclusive agendas as long as they did not challenge the AKP. The process
has accelerated with President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s increasing monopolization of
power. Press freedom has been in constant decline, judicial independence has been
curtailed, and security services use disproportionate force against protesters and the
like. Even as the institutions central to democratic functioning have eroded, Islamic
activism has continued to flourish with few checks.
Overall, a flourishing civil society and decaying political institutions have created a
radical-friendly environment in Turkey. And that presents a challenge to conventional
thinking about the mutually reinforcing link between civil society, moderation, and
democracy. Civil society has a dark side, and it might undermine democracy when that
democracy doesn’t have strong checks and balances. This is particularly true in the
informal sphere, where ad hoc and semi-clandestine networks compete with the
government for loyalty.
GUNES MURAT TEZCUR is Associate Professor of Political Science at the Loyola University Chicago. SABRI CIFTCI
is Assistant Professor of Political Science at Kansas State University.
Turkey's Kurdish Buffer
Why Erdogan Is Ready to Work With the Kurds
Soner Cagaptay
People sit in the back of a truck as they celebrate what they said was the Kurdish liberation of villages
from Islamist rebels near the city of Ras al-Ain, Syria, November 6, 2013.
COURTESY REUTERS
If anything good comes out of the turmoil in Iraq, it will be improved ties between
Turkey and the region’s Kurds.
Until recently, they were bitter enemies. Ankara had never been able to stomach the
idea of Kurdish self-government -- in Iraq or Syria or Turkey -- and it had generally
refused to give in to Turkish Kurds’ demands for cultural rights. Instead, it preferred to
crack down. Meanwhile, the region’s Kurds had never been able to stomach Iraqi,
Syrian, or Turkish rule and, taking issue with Ankara’s treatment of Kurds within
Turkey’s borders, threw their support behind the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), a
violent separatist movement in Turkey.
The Syrian civil war and developments in Iraq have started to change all that. These
days, from Turkey’s perspective, Kurdish autonomy doesn’t look half bad. The portions
of northern Iraq and Syria that are under Kurdish control are stable and peaceful -- a
perfect bulwark against threats such as the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS).
And that is why Turkey has been on good behavior with the Iraqi Kurds, is working on
its relations with the Syrian Kurds, and might finally be breaking the impasse with the
Kurds in its own territory. It is a tall order, but the stars may be aligned in favor of a
Turkish-Kurdish axis.
BACK TO IRAQ
Relations between Turkey and the Iraqi Kurds started improving just after the Iraq War,
when Iraqi Kurds pivoted toward Ankara to counter Baghdad’s centralizing pull. To the
Kurds’ dismay, post-Saddam Iraq remained an Arab country to the core; the power only
shifted from Sunni Arabs to Shia Arabs. In those days, Iraqi Kurds started offering
assistance to Turkey in its fight against the PKK and also opened markets in Iraqi
Kurdistan to Turkish exports and companies. Turkey reciprocated, sending merchants,
airlines, and consumer goods into the area. More recently, Iraqi Kurds opted to start
selling their oil through Turkey, bypassing Baghdad and giving Ankara a huge gift in
transit fees and tax revenue, as well as boosting Turkey’s claim to be a regional energy
hub.
ISIS’ advances in Iraq -- including a June 11 attack on the Turkish consulate in Mosul,
during which the group took Turkish diplomats and security officials hostage -- has
added urgency to the drive to improve relations between Turkey and Iraqi Kurds. It also
made Turkey go back on some clear redlines it had previously set for the Kurds; back in
2005, Turkey had threatened military action should they occupy Kirkuk, an oil-rich city
in northern Iraq. Kirkuk’s oil reserves would have given the Kurdish regional
government independent income (it relies on Baghdad for financial transfers), which
would have been a first step toward full sovereignty. But on June 12, when Kurdish
forces moved to occupy Kirkuk, Ankara did not utter a word.
It now seems safe to say that if the Iraqi Kurdish regional government declared
independence Ankara would be the first capital to recognize it. In today’s Middle East,
in other words, ISIS is a bigger threat to the Turks than Kurdish independence in Iraq.
SYRIAN SITUATION
Whereas Turkey’s ties with the Iraqi Kurds have improved in recent years, Ankara’s
relations with the Syrian Kurds have remained rather bitter. This is because, unlike in
the KRG where Iraqi Kurdish groups hold more sway than the Turkish PKK, the PKK is
very popular among the Syrian Kurds. (Assad’s father allowed the PKK to grow inside
Syria to use the group as a proxy against Turkey.) When the group’s Syrian branch,
Party for Democratic Unity (PYD), which is not shy about its ties to the PKK, took
control of Kurdish areas in northern Syria in July 2012, Ankara feared that it was
witnessing the birth of a PKK-led state on its doorstep. In response, it stopped
shipments of aid and supplies into the Kurdish enclaves.
As the war against Syrian President Bashar al-Assad heated up, though, Turkey saw an
opportunity. Wishing to take advantage of all opposition factions in Syria, Turkey
reached out to the PYD and invited the group’s leader to Ankara. The PYD demurred,
though. All along, the Kurds’ strategy in the Syrian civil war has been simple: take over
Kurdish areas and let the others fight among themselves. At times, the PYD has even
collaborated with the Assad regime, for instance by allowing supplies to flow into
regime-controlled enclaves. In return, Assad has not targeted PYD territory. It didn’t
make much sense, then, for the PYD to cooperate outright with Turkey.
But with the emergence of ISIS, the Syrian Kurds’ calculations might be changing. The
PYD and PKK have strong secular tendencies and oppose ISIS and its austere version of
Islam. The PYD now controls three Kurdish exclaves in northern Syria, all of which are
flanked by Turkey to the north and ISIS to the south. And unlike the Assad regime, ISIS
has shown no inclination to trade favors with the Kurds. In other words, the Syrian
Kurds’ future could now be in Turkey’s hands. It could allow more aid and supplies to
flow to the Kurds to support their defensive lines against ISIS and, if the Syrian Kurds
play nice, full military and security cooperation could be forthcoming.
Over time, Turkey believes, the Syrian Kurdish exclaves could become forward
operating bases against ISIS -- a friendly force that guards over 450 miles of Syria’s
540-mile long Turkish border. The idea is appealing: the PYD is the only force, Assad
regime included, that has been able to win any battle against ISIS in Syria. For
instance, in March 2013, PYD fighters successfully pushed back an ISIS advance to take
over Kobani, one of the three Kurdish exclaves in Syria.
TURKISH TROUBLE
Turkey cannot grow closer to Iraqi and Syrian Kurds without making peace with its
own. After decades of battle, the PKK could still easily derail any rapprochement
between Turkey and other Kurdish groups, especially the Syrian Kurds, by telling the
PYD to reject Turkish offers. What is more, the PKK could launch attacks in Turkey if it
feels that it is being left out of a potential deal between Turkey and the Iraqi Kurds.
Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan has a personal stake in this as well. He is
facing a presidential election in August. In local elections in March, his party received
43 percent of the vote. The support of the pro-PKK Peace and Democracy Party, which
won about 6.5 percent of the vote in March, could help him clinch the presidency.
Enter ongoing peace talks with the PKK. Through those negotiations, Turkey has
granted the Kurds additional rights to use their own language in public, which had long
been seen as a threat to Turkish nationalism. Kurdish language is now ubiquitous in
universities and city governments in southeastern Turkey, where the Kurds dominate.
More recently, on June 26, Erdogan declared a new reform package that promises
amnesty for thousands of PKK fighters should negotiations with the PKK conclude
successfully.
Erdogan will try to keep Turkish Kurds happy while building deeper security ties with
the Iraqi and Syrian Kurds, which Turkey will guarantee de facto autonomy. This turn of
events is rather ironic. Soon after Erdogan came to power in 2003, he launched a
policy, called “strategic depth,” which aimed to make Turkey a major power in the
Middle East, with allies and influence across the region. A decade later, Ankara’s only
allies in the Middle East might just be the Kurds. Likewise, the Kurds’ main ally might
soon be Ankara. Working together, they will try to escape the old politics of the Middle
East and stand alone as peaceful and stable success stories.
SONER CAGAPTAY is Beyer Family Fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy and author of Rise of
Turkey: The Twenty First-Century’s First Muslim Power.
ISIS Enters Egypt
How Washington Must Respond
Khalil al-Anani
Smoke rises during a military operation in the Egyptian city of Rafah, October 2014.
SUHAIB SALEM / COURTESY REUTERS
The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) has officially entered Egypt. On November
10, Ansar Beit al-Maqdis, a militant movement that operates out of the northern Sinai
Peninsula, pledged allegiance to ISIS and its leader, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi. The
group, which emerged after the 2011 uprising that overthrew Egyptian President Hosni
Mubarak, has already established itself as a formidable player in its own right. In recent
months, it has staged devastating attacks on Egypt’s police forces and claimed
responsibility for a series of suicide attacks on military facilities in Cairo and the Sinai
Peninsula.
The announcement was not a complete surprise, however, coming just weeks after
Egyptian President Abel Fattah al-Sisi declared a state of emergency in the Sinai
Peninsula and launched a bloody offensive against the group, which required an
evacuation of Rafah that displaced approximately 10,000 people. Moreover, Ansar Beit
al-Maqdis and ISIS are natural partners: They share not only a radical ideology but also
barbaric tactics. Last August, Ansar Beit al-Maqdis decapitated four local men in
northern Sinai after accusing them of being informants for Israel. But the decision to
join ISIS marks the end of a bitter dispute within the militant movement’s rank-and-file
over whether to join the global group. The split concerned two interlinked issues. The
first was whether Ansar Beit al-Maqdis should join a global network or continue to
operate independently. Some of the group’s leaders argued—and failed to convince
their peers—that focusing solely on Egypt would secure local support. The second was
the choice between joining al Qaeda and ISIS. Whereas the group’s veterans generally
preferred the former, younger members pressed to join the latter.
Ansar Beit al-Maqdis’ new ambitions provide yet another sign that Sisi’s campaign of
blind and brutal repression has backfired: Over the past few years, the militant group
has grown only more appealing to disillusioned young Egyptians. And, in turn, it has
expanded its objectives. In the months after Mubarak’s ouster, the group focused
mainly on staging attacks against targets in Israel and Sinai. In August 2011, it
launched an assault on the southern Israeli city of Eilat, killing eight Israelis and five
Egyptian soldiers. And throughout 2011 and 2012, the group frequently bombed the
natural gas pipelines that run through Sinai to Israel and Jordan. It was not until after
Sisi seized power, in July 2013, that the group moved into Egypt’s heartland and started
targeting government officials and security facilities. Now, according to a recent
report, Ansar Beit al-Maqdis’ attacks on greater Cairo have become as frequent
as—and more deadly than—its assaults in Sinai.
Analysts now fear that the group may have sympathizers in the Egyptian military’s
ranks. Since Sisi’s coup, a significant number of military officers has defected and
joined radical groups. According to the Egyptian media, a devastating attack against
the military checkpoint in Sinai last October, which killed 31 soldiers and injured many
others, was planned and executed by two former army officers, Emad Abdel Halim and
Hesham Ashmawy. There has also been speculation that a defected navy officer was
involved in a recent Ansar Beit al-Maqdis assault on an Egyptian ship in the
Mediterranean that left five navy officers injured and eight missing. And according to a
recent New York Times report, Ansar Beit al-Maqdis is believed to be recruiting
informants who know intimate details about the army’s deployments. Such leaks could
prove devastating, ushering a new era of insurgency that could haunt Egypt for years to
come.
The new jihadist alliance is a disaster for Washington as well as Cairo. For one thing, it
is proof positive that ISIS has been able to use its victories in Iraq and Syria to attract
new followers and continued support outside the Levant—despite the fact that it is
facing the fury of a U.S.-led air campaign. Egypt, moreover, home to such veteran
jihadists as al Qaeda leader Ayman Al-Zawahiri (who despite his best efforts, has never
been able to establish a foothold there), has become a full-fledged area of ISIS
operations. For the group’s leaders, Egypt plays a central role in its vision of an Islamic
caliphate, not only because of the country’s political and cultural stature in the Arab
world, but also because of its borders with Israel. Further attacks on the Jewish state
could help ISIS legitimize its operations and enhance its popularity among Egyptians.
Sisi, meanwhile, is losing touch with the country’s moderate Muslims. The story of
Ahmed al-Darawi, a 38-year-old rights activist who died last month fighting under the
ISIS flag in Iraq, provides but a single well-reported example of a mainstream Egyptian
turning violent. Al-Darawi, like many of his peers, grew disenchanted by the lack of
reforms to state institutions in post-uprising Egypt, especially when it came to the
Ministry of Interior, where he served as an officer before resigning to protest
corruption. According to some estimates, ISIS currently has roughly 5,000 Egyptian
fighters. Many are veteran jihadists who fought previously in Afghanistan and Bosnia
during the 1980s and 1990s. And according to Egyptian officials, a number of them
have already returned to lead operations against Sisi’s regime.
The new allegiance thus further underscores how unstable Egypt remains. Through its
clampdown on political dissent, Cairo has created a fertile ground for ISIS and groups
like it, with the potential to recruit young people, Islamists, and moderates alike. Ansar
Beit al-Maqdis is also capitalizing on Sisi’s repressive policies in Sinai, which have
alienated most of its population and allowed the group to drum up tribal support there.
The consequences of the alliance will be felt regionally as well. Even if ISIS is defeated
in Iraq and Syria, a foothold in Egypt could provide access to safe havens in North and
Sub-Saharan Africa, as well as in the Arab Peninsula. With dozens of supporters and
sympathizers in Algeria, Libya, Mali, Morocco, Nigeria, and Tunisia, ISIS is poised to
transform this massive area, drawing support from alienated citizens fed up with
autocratic regimes. In addition, the new alliance could inspire other networks in these
countries to join ISIS. Jihadist militias, such as Ansar al-Sharia in Libya and Boko Haram
in Nigeria, are already appropriating ISIS’ ideology and tactics to expand their own
spheres of control.
All this further complicates U.S. President Barack Obama’s efforts to renew
congressional support for the allied military campaign against ISIS, raising further
doubts about its effectiveness in the face of diminishing public support. U.S. military
support for Egypt, which appears to have been largely ineffective in fighting terrorism,
also stands at risk. New Apache helicopters and fighter jets, part of Washington’s $1.3
billion annual aid package to Cairo, have failed to restore security in Sinai. In fact,
Sisi’s use of U.S. military equipment probably undermined his legitimacy, giving his
counterterrorism campaign the appearance of U.S.-backed punishment.
Moving forward, the Obama administration will be tempted to give Sisi a blank check to
fight Ansar Beit al-Maqdis and ISIS. But if Washington is to have any hope of
succeeding in the larger fight against ISIS and its affiliates, the United States must
ensure that any military support does not solidify autocratic rule or target innocents. It
goes without saying that Sisi, like his fellow Arab autocrats, will derive his own benefit
from the new alliance, allowing him to justify his despotic policies against political
activists and dissenters. Yet recent events suggest that such an approach could
backfire, leaving the United States and its allies to pick up the pieces.
KHALIL AL-ANANI is an Adjunct Professor of Middle Eastern Studies at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced
International Studies (SAIS) and the author of the forthcoming book Inside the Muslim Brotherhood: Religion,
Identity and Politics. Follow him on Twitter @Khalilalanani.
ISIS' Next Prize
Will Libya Join the Terrorist Group's Caliphate?
Geoffrey Howard
Women hold up pictures of the 21 Egyptian Coptic Christians beheaded by ISIS in Libya, February 17,
2015.
MUHAMMAD HAMED / COURTESY REUTERS
The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham is no longer just an Iraq and Syria problem. For
months now, ISIS (or groups affiliated with it) has been pushing into Libya as well. The
country has long been vulnerable; the vacuum created by the deepening political crisis
and collapse of state institutions is an attractive arena for terrorist groups. Further,
control of Libya could potentially bring access to substantial revenues through well-
established smuggling networks that deal in oil, stolen cars, contraband goods, and
weapons.
It should perhaps not have been surprising, then, when Libyan militants claimed Derna,
in the country’s lawless northeast, as an ISIS province in late 2014. ISIS leader Abu
Bakr al-Baghdadi welcomed the declaration and sent an emir to lead operations in the
town. He also announced the creation of three other ISIS provinces in the country:
Barqa in the east, Tripoli in the west, and Fezzan in the south. More recently, groups
linked to ISIS have claimed responsibility for a number of attacks, including in Tripoli,
Sirte, and Gubba, and they have seized urban centers, including Nawfaliyah and parts
of Sirte. In early February, moreover, an ISIS-allied group beheaded 21 Egyptian Coptic
Christians in Libya, demonstrating the seriousness of ISIS’ intentions.
Yet it is easy to overstate ISIS’ influence in Libya. Libya is home to a broad range of
militant groups, and the vast majority of violent attacks in the country are carried out
by domestic groups—including tribes, ethnic minorities, and members of the security
forces and militias—who are motivated by more local grievances tied to the rule of
Muammar al-Qaddafi (he encouraged rivalry between factions), the 2011 uprising
(which was itself a series of localized pockets of resistance rather than a nationwide
movement), and subsequent fighting for control of the country (which has deepened the
old divisions).
Indeed, Libya’s post-uprising political dynamics may actually hinder ISIS more than any
airstrikes. Libya is highly fragmented. Multiple competing power centers front their
own armed groups and political structures, each with varying degrees of affiliation to
each other and to the country’s two rival governments. They also have conflicting
demands and expectations, and rivalries going back decades. Among these groups,
however, sectarian tensions are not as heightened as they are in Iraq and Syria (over 95
percent of the population is Sunni). Moreover, Libya's local political actors are stronger
and less likely to present ISIS with any opportunities to foment further divisions and
create strongholds.
It will be hard for ISIS to navigate the maze of competing local, ethnic, tribal,
ideological, and political groups. Most all of them are ultimately self-serving and self-
interested, and ISIS’ advance would threaten their own political and economic agendas.
Armed groups already compete fiercely for control of the lucrative smuggling networks
that traverse the region. ISIS’ attempts to take a piece of the pie for itself would not go
over well, nor would any efforts to gain control over oil and gas infrastructure. At
present, these groups are likely able to resist ISIS’ attempts to gain control over these
strategic interests. In addition, greater ISIS presence in Libya could even provide a
common enemy for the armed groups, bringing them together—at least as long as the
threat remains.
Even if ISIS were able to take over some of Libya’s prize oil and gas infrastructure, the
group would most likely struggle to make much money from it; oil output has already
fallen to 350,000 barrels per day, down from total capacity export levels of around 1.6
million, a figure nearly reached in 2013 following a strong resurgence in the
hydrocarbons sector immediately after the 2011 uprising. Hydrocarbon assets are
generally located in inaccessible areas of the desert, with refining capabilities in large
facilities far away on the coast. To turn a profit, then, ISIS would have to get control of
the oilfields, the pipelines, and the export terminals. It would also face the extremely
difficult task of organizing illicit exports. Although ISIS may be able to conduct low-
level oil smuggling, talk of Libya as a potential gold mine—including claims from a
number of Libyan ministers and officials in the Gulf that Libya could bankroll ISIS—may
be premature.
ISIS' strength in Libya has so far been untested and its initial spread has been relatively
easy; predisposed militants willingly latched on to the group’s brand to gain notoriety.
But ISIS’ successes have so far been concentrated amongst Libyan militants in areas
that already have a history of Islamist radicalism, such as Sirte, Derna, and Benghazi.
The momentum may be difficult to sustain. ISIS does not enjoy broad support in Libya,
and efforts to maintain recruitment levels will be complicated by Libya’s small
population, the lack of serious sectarian divisions between Sunni and Shia, and the
potential backlash against barbarous acts carried out in the name of ISIS.
At the same time, Libya is undoubtedly exposed; should the chronic political crisis
reach a tipping point, spiraling levels of violence could provide ISIS-affiliated groups
with greater space to operate, filling the vacuum left by defunct institutions and a
fragmented society. The prolonged political crisis is already causing splits within
Libya’s two main political blocs, and hard-line factions within both are agitating for
more extreme action. ISIS may find willing recruits among these fringe radicals, as well
as among foreign fighters from al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, which has been
struggling to remain relevant.
Still, an ISIS stronghold in Libya is hardly a fait accompli. Further attacks by ISIS-
affiliated groups are almost certain, but the group will face more hurdles in building a
caliphate than a cursory narrative about Libya’s impending state collapse suggests.
David Schenker
A boy holds a toy gun beside the Jordanian national flag during a march after Friday prayers in
downtown Amman, February 6, 2015.
MUHAMMAD HAMED / COURTESY REUTERS
The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham’s horrific video of operatives burning alive the
captured Jordanian pilot Moath al-Kasasbeh shocked the world. King Abdullah, who was
visiting Washington when the video was released, vowed to avenge Kasasbeh’s death
and promptly returned to Jordan. Even before he landed, two prominent al Qaeda
prisoners with ties to ISIS on death row in the kingdom were hanged.
If the past is precedent, Kasasbeh’s death at the hands of ISIS could signal a
change—at least temporarily—in Jordanian popular attitudes toward the war and
presage a more robust role for the kingdom in military operations.
For the past six months, opposition to the war in Jordan was broad-based, including
both secular and Islamist residents. The Jordanian Muslim Brotherhood condemned
participation in the coalition as a violation of the country’s constitution and “a
campaign against Islam.” Meanwhile, some secular Jordanians worried that the
kingdom’s role in the air war would provoke ISIS retaliation. Still others—such as the
prominent columnist Lamis Andoni—contended that Jordan had been blackmailed by
the United States, the kingdom’s leading donor, into participating. The campaign, she
wrote on December 30, represented a “complete subordination to Washington’s policies
and wishes.”
For most Jordanians, though, opposition to the anti-ISIS coalition seemed to be driven
by dynamics in Syria, where, since 2011, the nominally Shia Alawite regime of
President Bashar al-Assad has killed 200,000 people, mostly Sunnis. In this context,
many Jordanians saw the Sunni ISIS as an effective counterforce to Assad. Not
surprisingly, according to a poll published in September by the Center for Strategic
Studies at the University of Jordan, only 62 percent of Jordanians considered ISIS to be
a terrorist organization.
Even before Kasasbeh’s capture by ISIS in Syria last year, burgeoning opposition to
Jordan’s participation in the war was a growing headache for the palace. It became
worse after. Although the Jordanian military—known at home as the Arab
Army—remained extremely popular, Jordanian leaders were coming under increasing
criticism for allowing the country to serve as the base of coalition air operations. The
pilot’s father, Safi Yousef al Kasasbeh, emerged as a prominent critic of the war and of
the ineffectual palace efforts to negotiate or otherwise secure his son’s release.
If the 2005 Amman hotel bombings—the worst in Jordanian history—are any indication,
Kasasbeh’s execution could shift local public opinion. Prior to the November 2005
attack on three downtown hotels that killed 60 and wounded 115, 61 percent of
Jordanians reported that they viewed Osama bin Laden favorably. In polling after the
bombing, which was perpetrated by al Qaeda’s Iraq affiliate, support for bin Laden
plummeted to 24 percent. And five years later, confidence in the al Qaeda leader
bottomed out at just 13 percent.
To be sure, much has changed since 2005. A decade ago, for example, the region wasn’t
engulfed in a Sunni-Shia conflict and Jordan wasn’t witnessing the exponential growth
of Salafism. To wit, even after Kasasbeh, some Jordanian Islamist leaders apparently
still can’t bring themselves to condemn ISIS. Complicating matters, an estimated 2,500
Jordanians are currently fighting jihad in Syria—an occurrence so common that just last
week, it barely made local headlines that the son of a sitting parliamentarian was killed
fighting for Jebhat al-Nusra in Aleppo.
Nevertheless, the Kasasbeh outrage and the 2005 bombing in Amman have similar
implications for Jordanian policy. At a minimum, like 2005, this incident will convince
many Jordanians that the kingdom is in ISIS’ crosshairs, limiting, at least temporarily,
opposition to membership in the U.S.-led coalition. Accordingly, Jordanians will be more
amenable to proactive kinetic operations. Not surprisingly, given current popular
sentiment, Abdullah’s latest calls for a “relentless” and “harsh” war against ISIS in
Syria have been well received. In the coming days and weeks, it seems likely that
Jordan will increase the frequency and ferocity of its air operations—and perhaps even
deploy special forces—to target ISIS in Syria.
Six months into the air war, Jordan has lost two F-16s and one pilot, in addition to
dozens of ground forces wounded and killed along the frontier with Syria. Jordan is
already at the so-called tip of the spear of the campaign, but the prospect of increased
casualties—who will almost certainly hail from the country’s tribes, which constitute the
backbone of the military and the leading supporters of the monarchy—holds little
appeal for the king.
Perhaps the abiding tribal concept of thar (revenge) will mitigate future backlash
against the palace for losses sustained in the fight against ISIS. Although Jordan is not a
democracy, public sentiment matters, particularly in these difficult times. And the
lesson of the Kasasbeh hostage ordeal is that the kingdom is quite sensitive to military
casualties. Here, though, history is key. The rage in the kingdom following the 2005
bombings persisted for a year—and coincided with increased Jordanian military and
intelligence cooperation with the United States on al Qaeda, as well as draconian
security measures on the home front. On both accounts, there was little popular
protest.
For the time being, with the overwhelming support of the population, Abdullah will
extract revenge on ISIS in Syria. He will also have a freer hand to pursue a more
comprehensive crackdown on ISIS supporters at home. Over time, however, concerns
about force preservation may ultimately compel the kingdom to dial back its own
expanded military efforts in Syria. Committed to the coalition, Jordan will remain the
base of anti-ISIS air operations and a training facility for anti-Assad Syrian rebels for
the foreseeable future. But Jordan is unlikely to become a regional Sparta—as The
Washington Post recently described the United Arab Emirates—anytime soon. ISIS
poses a clear and present danger to Jordan’s stability, but so does popular discontent.
DAVID SCHENKER is director of the Program on Arab Politics at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.
From 2002 to 2006, he served as Levant Director in the Office of the Secretary of Defense.
This is What Détente Looks Like
The United States and Iran Join Forces Against ISIS
Mohsen Milani
Iraqi security forces fire an artillery gun during clashes with Islamic State.
COURTESY REUTERS
It is no particular surprise that U.S. President Barack Obama is on the verge of turning
over a new leaf with Iran. After all, over the course of his presidency, Obama has
repeatedly emphasized that he would like the United States and Iran to overcome their
35 years of estrangement. What is surprising, however, is how rapprochement has
come about -- not through negotiations over the fate of Tehran’s nuclear program, but
as a result of the battle against ISIS.
Tehran and Washington find themselves on the same side in the fight against the
Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), also called the Islamic State (IS), and there are
already signs that they have been cooperating against the extremist group’s advance
through Iraq. Although there is no guarantee that this will last for the duration of the
war, such cooperation is clearly a positive step.
The United States and Iran both view ISIS as a significant threat to their own interests.
An ISIS stronghold near the Iranian border would be a profound and immediate
security threat to Tehran. For one, the Sunni jihadists of ISIS are openly disdainful of
the Shia faith, the sect of Islam that the overwhelming majority of Iranians and the
majority of Iraqis adhere to. The group is already in a sectarian war in Syria and Iraq,
and Tehran must assume that it eventually plans on turning its attention to Iran.
Washington, for its part, has also concluded that ISIS poses a significant threat. If ISIS
manages to create a safe haven in Iraq, it could use the territory to plan operations
against the West, undermine Western allies in the region, and endanger oil shipments
in the Persian Gulf. In the meantime, the group’s war against the Iraqi state also poses
a danger to U.S. interests. Over the past decade, Washington has paid a high price in
blood and treasure to create a stable and relatively friendly Iraq. The collapse of that
state would be a humiliating defeat.
Although the United States and Iran have different visions for the future of Iraq, they
share three major strategic goals there: protecting Iraq’s territorial integrity;
preventing a sectarian civil war that could easily metastasize into the entire region; and
defeating ISIS. There is also a precedent of tactical cooperation in Iraq between Tehran
and Washington: In 2001, the two cooperated to dislodge the Taliban from Afghanistan.
Obama has pledged not to tolerate the establishment of a terrorist state in Iraq and has
already ordered limited air strikes against ISIS to protect U.S. personnel and facilities
in Iraq and provide humanitarian relief to that country’s desperate Yezidi minority.
Tehran has given unambiguous signals that it approves of Obama’s limited military
mission. Iranian President Hassan Rouhani and a host of other officials have publicly
expressed willingness to collaborate with the United States to defeat ISIS. It is unlikely
that Tehran will offer tactical assistance to the United States on the battlefield, of
course, but it is likely to welcome continued U.S. air strikes and might even quietly
applaud the reintroduction of U.S. ground troops to Iraq.
But Obama has also declared, correctly, that there can’t be a U.S. military solution for
Iraq’s problems until its political problems -- above all, its central government’s
tendency toward exclusivism -- have been addressed. This is where Iran, which has
maintained very close ties with the Shia parties that are dominant in Baghdad, has
taken the lead. Washington has greeted the arrival of Iraq’s new prime minister, Haider
al-Abadi. Abadi’s predecessor, Nouri al-Maliki, only stepped down after Iran (and
Ayatollah Ali Sistani, Iraq’s leading Shia cleric) firmly pushed him to go. Tehran initially
expressed its desire for Maliki to leave office in private. But when he still showed no
signs of exiting, Ali Shamkhani, Secretary of Iran’s Supreme National Security Council,
issued a public declaration congratulating Abadi for being named to form a new
government. Tehran also mobilized Iraqi Shia groups as well as Shia militias to support
Abadi. Washington was reduced to being an observer in much of this process, but it
welcomed the outcome.
The cooperation between Tehran and Washington in Iraq has been productive so far,
but it is also fragile. There are three factors that could easily derail it. The first is a
dispute over the composition of the new Iraqi government. Iran recognized that Maliki
had become too polarizing and authoritarian a figure, but that does not mean that it has
otherwise revised its strategy that Iraq’s Shia community should dominate Iraqi politics,
or changed its view that Sunni groups need to learn to accept Shia rule. As I wrote in an
earlier article for Foreign Affairs, this is both a matter of principle (Shias comprise a
comfortable majority of the Iraqi population) and pragmatism (Tehran believes that the
Sunnis are less likely than the Shias and Kurds to be interested in building close ties
with Iran).
Washington, by contrast, believes that Iraq’s Shia community should wield less power
than it naturally would under strict proportionality according to population. In part, this
may be because of pressure from Sunni governments in the region, including Saudi
Arabia. But the United States also believes that some of Iraq’s Shia groups are more
interested in acquiring a monopoly over national power than wielding power in a
responsible fashion.
The second factor that could stall U.S.–Iranian cooperation is the prospect of an
independent Kurdistan. Under Maliki, the relationship between Baghdad and the
Kurdish regional capital of Erbil, became increasingly hostile. After the northern Iraqi
city of Mosul fell to ISIS in June, the Kurds decided to seize the opportunity to make a
bid for greater sovereignty. They quickly captured Kirkuk, a contested and energy-rich
city in northern Iraq, and continued with their controversial policy to sell oil without
Baghdad’s approval. They also stated their intention to hold a referendum on Kurdish
independence.
All of these developments alarmed Tehran, which has generally maintained good
relations with the Kurds, but has drawn a red line regarding Kurdish independence. The
recent decision by Western countries to provide weapons directly to Kurdish militias
has increased Tehran’s anxieties. Although Iran has developed close political and
economic ties with Iraq’s Kurds and has even pledged to support them in their war
against ISIS, Tehran also understands that independence for Iraqi Kurds could easily
incite Iran’s own ethnic minorities to demand independence and undermine the
country’s territorial integrity. Tehran is very aware of a recent precedent: After World
War II, an independent government was fleetingly established in Mahabad, in Iranian
Kurdistan, although the Soviet-backed movement was soon crushed by Iran’s central
government. Iranian policymakers also know that, although the United States officially
opposes Kurdish independence, the Kurds have powerful friends in Washington who
seek to change that policy.
Finally, U.S.–Iranian cooperation can always falter because of the many constituencies
in both countries that are ideologically opposed to any bilateral cooperation between
the two states. In Washington, many blame Iran for encouraging sectarianism in Iraq,
and correctly point out that Iran trained and funded the Shia militias that killed U.S.
troops after the initial invasion of Iraq. They consider Iran to be the source of Iraq’s
problems and sincerely, if unrealistically, seek to exclude it from any future security
architecture of the country. For example, General James L. Jones, Obama’s former
National Security Advisor, recently proposed convening a U.S.-sponsored strategic
conference about Iraq. All regional players are to be invited to the conference, except
Iran.
Similarly, many members of the security forces in Tehran reject cooperation with the
United States. They believe that Washington is the source of instability in Iraq; some
even blame the United States for the existence of ISIS, based on the conspiratorial
belief that the United States helped finance the group so that it would fight against the
Tehran-backed Assad regime in Syria. For Iran’s most devout Islamist ideologues, the
United States can never be trusted beyond very short-term tactical cooperation.
Two weeks ago, Alaeddin Boroujerdi, chairman of the Iranian parliament’s Foreign
Policy and National Security Committee, correctly stated that Iran, Saudi Arabia, and
the United States are the key players in Iraq. If Washington and Tehran manage to
cooperate to stabilize in Iraq, it would not only be good news for the Iraqis -- it could
also pave the way for a final agreement in the ongoing nuclear negotiations. In that
sense, the two countries would have truly achieved significant rapprochement, if not in
the way that many observers originally anticipated.
MOHSEN MILANI is Professor of Politics and the Executive Director of the Center for Strategic and Diplomatic
Studies at the University of South Florida. Follow him on Twitter @mohsenmilani.
ISIS Goes to Asia
Extremism in the Middle East Isn't Only Spreading West
There is a clear precedent for this scenario. During the 1980s, many young Muslims
from Southeast Asia went to Pakistan to support the Afghan mujahideen’s so-called
jihad against Soviet occupation. Many of these recruits subsequently stayed in the
region, mingling with like-minded Muslims from all around and gaining exposure to al
Qaeda’s militant ideology. Many eventually returned to Southeast Asia to form
extremist groups of their own, including the notorious al Qaeda–linked organization
Jemaah Islamiyah that was responsible for several high-profile terrorist attacks in the
region over the last 15 years. With evidence now surfacing of Southeast Asians among
the ranks of ISIS casualties, it’s only natural that governments in the region are feeling
a sense of déjà vu.
RADICAL CHIC
Singapore has already revealed that several of its nationals have made their way to the
Middle East to battle with ISIS, and the Philippine government has suggested that local
ISIS sympathizers are attempting to recruit from among the Bangsamoro populations in
the country’s southern islands. But the greatest concern comes from Indonesia and
Malaysia. Indonesia, the world’s most populous Muslim country, has already confirmed
that more than 50 of its citizens are currently fighting in Syria and Iraq; Malaysia has
suggested that between 30 and 40 Malaysians are doing the same. In both cases, the
actual numbers could be much higher if we consider those who may have traveled to
the conflict zones from other destinations. Indonesian authorities have already noted
that several of their nationals have been killed fighting for ISIS in Syria. On May 26, a
Malaysian suicide bomber killed himself in an ISIS attack in Iraq. Another Malaysian
fighter who died fighting for ISIS in Syria several months later has been celebrated as a
martyr by leaders of the Pan-Malaysian Islamic Party, the same party that had earlier
dismissed him after he departed for Syria. Intriguingly, three Malaysian women were
also alleged to have left for Syria to wage a “sexual jihad” (jihad al-nikah), offering their
bodies to ISIS fighters to “boost their morale.”
ISIS’ reach in Southeast Asia is based on several factors. First, certain devout Muslims
feel a theological affinity for the militant group. They see parallels between ISIS’
mission and prophecies in Islamic holy texts of the eventual creation of a Khilafah
Minhaj Nebuwwah (“end-times caliphate”) following the fall of dictators in the Arabian
Peninsula; they are also reminded of the apocalyptic struggle that is said to be fated
between the forces of Imam Mahdi, an Islamic messiah figure who is supposed to fight
under a black flag, and those of the Dajjal, or Antichrist. Anecdotal evidence suggests
that this millenarian perspective is growing in Indonesia and Malaysia with radical
clerics such as Aman Abdurrahman, who, though in jail, are expanding their reach
through the Internet and radical tracts -- including a book titled Strategi Dua Lengan
(Two-Armed Strategy) -- increasingly finding their way into Indonesian translation.
Another reason for ISIS’ appeal is its sectarianism. The ISIS challenge is seen in some
quarters as an extension of the Sunni-Shiite schism. To wit: The group’s struggle
against Bashar al-Assad’s Alawite regime is considered legitimate in fundamentalist
Sunni-Salafi circles. In much the same way, ISIS militancy in Iraq is seen as a
consequence of Sunni grievance against the Shiite-led government of Nouri al-Maliki.
This support needs to be understood in the context of Southeast Asia’s own problems
with sectarianism: Shiite Islam is banned in Malaysia and is not widely accepted in
Indonesia.
Finally, the question of the recruitment of Southeast Asians into ISIS cannot be
divorced from the larger context of the humanitarian crisis in Syria. The universal
sympathy for the Syrian people among Southeast Asia’s sizable Muslim populations has
undoubtedly prompted a large number of humanitarian missions to depart for the
conflict zone. Many members of these missions may well have set off with noble
intentions. But once they arrive in territory held by ISIS, it is not difficult to imagine
how they would be exposed to ISIS indoctrination and recruitment.
FALSE ANALOGY
In many ways, Southeast Asia seems to be seeing a repeat of its experience with
Afghanistan in the 1980s and 1990s. The most familiar aspect is ISIS’ recruiting efforts,
mostly undertaken by Southeast Asian sympathizers rather than ISIS leaders based in
the Middle East. In 2012, ISIS’ appeal started to grow among Indonesian and Malaysian
civil society groups that had mobilized in response to Syria’s humanitarian crisis by
creating local awareness and fundraising. Within a year, several Islamic preachers in
Indonesia had pledged allegiance to ISIS’ caliphate, and about half a dozen graduates
from Indonesia’s Ngruki Islamic boarding school, previously a hotbed of Jemaah
Islamiyah membership ideology and recruitment, are believed to have left to join the
jihad in Syria (often with funding from Jemaah Islamiyah and other affiliated extremist
groups). ISIS has also been actively recruiting in Malaysia through Islamic study groups
known as usrah. In turn, those Malaysian recruits are believed to have attempted to
recruit from Singapore. It is still not yet known exactly how successful these recruiting
efforts have been. But it is clear that ISIS has been able to promote its jihad through
sympathizers plugged into the region’s local Islamic communities and networks, just as
Afghan militants did in earlier decades.
But there are also significant differences between the present-day jihad and the earlier
one in Afghanistan against the Soviet Union. While the Afghan mujahideen’s struggle
was widely embraced, ISIS has proven extremely divisive in Southeast Asia, even
among extremist groups, some of which have rejected and virulently condemned the
organization. Jemaah Islamiyah, for one, has accused ISIS of being takfir (Muslims who
pass judgment on fellow Muslims of being un-Islamic ) and dismissed its members as
khawarij (extremists). Other groups, such as the conservative Majelis Mujahidin
Indonesia (Indonesian Mujahideen Council), have cast doubt on ISIS’ religious
credentials, proclaiming that it is an organization and not a caliphate and hence has no
legitimate claim to the loyalty of Muslims. Furthermore, they have also argued that
ISIS’ process for appointing Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi as caliph was in violation of Islamic
law, as it did not take place before a religious council that represents the entire Islamic
community. As the terrorism expert Sidney Jones has rightly pointed out, the existence
of this divergence of opinion on ISIS speaks to a split within Indonesia’s extremist
community between those who support ISIS and others who remain loyal to al Qaeda
and the al Nusra Front. Unsurprisingly, the other major difference from the days of the
jihad in Afghanistan is ISIS’ use of social media. ISIS has consistently used Twitter and
Facebook to amplify its message and broaden its reach. Also, the fact that authorities in
Indonesia have been reluctant to shut down radical websites that carry ISIS
propaganda, such as al-Mustaqbal.net, despite already imposing a ban on the group’s
jihadist teachings (likely because of a misplaced concern for its religious credibility in
the eyes of the vocal radical Islamist community), has only enhanced its visibility in the
region.
Without downplaying the ISIS threat to Southeast Asia, there are nevertheless limits to
the effectiveness of its recruitment in the region. Despite huge investments from Arab
governments, particularly Saudi Arabia, in Islamic education across Southeast Asia over
the past three decades, the lingua francas of the region’s Muslim communities remain
Malay and Indonesian, not Arabic. The vast majority of Muslims from the region are
insufficiently literate in Arabic to even appreciate ISIS’ propaganda without translation,
much less fully integrate with ISIS fighters in Iraq and Syria. In Afghanistan during the
1980s and 1990s, this problem was in part surmounted by the creation of dedicated
training camps for Southeast Asians; although the situation may change, this does not
seem to be the case in Syria or Iraq at the moment, where Southeast Asian recruits are
thrown onto the front lines with everyone else. Second, Muslims in Indonesia and
Malaysia enjoy social and economic conditions far better than those of their
coreligionists in the Levant (or even in Europe, where there is a palpable sense of
alienation and marginalization among Muslim immigrant populations). By and large,
Southeast Asians simply have fewer incentives to travel to Syria or Iraq.
Finally, unlike the immediate aftermath of the Afghan conflict in the 1990s, terrorist
recruitment in Southeast Asia today has lost the tactical advantage of surprise. With
regional security and intelligence agencies alert to the potential threat emanating from
Iraq and Syria -- thanks precisely to the lessons they learned from the 1990s --
conditions are considerably more difficult for the kind of clandestine recruitment that
went on two decades ago. Two other factors are instructive in this regard. First,
whatever its shortcomings, the Indonesian state today is not nearly as weak as it was in
the late 1990s, when radical groups flourished after the fall of former President
Suharto. Second, the apparent resolution of the long-standing conflict in the Philippines
between the government and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front has potentially opened
the way for cooperation on counterterrorism.
That said, it’s understandable that the governments of the region are concerned that
ISIS might spawn a new generation of jihadist leaders, fighters, and ideologues in the
region. Afghanistan still casts a long shadow over discussions in Southeast Asia -- and
with good reason. But regional policymakers would be well advised to appreciate not
only the similarities between the former challenge and the present-day conflict but also
the very significant differences.
JOSEPH CHINYONG LIOW is Senior Fellow and Lee Kuan Yew Chair in Southeast Asian Studies at the Brookings
Institution and Professor and Associate Dean at the S.Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Nanyang
Technological University.
They're Coming
Measuring the Threat from Returning Jihadists
Jytte Klausen
An Islamist fighter takes part in a military parade along the streets of Syria's northern Raqqa province,
June 30, 2014.
COURTESY REUTERS
In an interview with the Washington Post in May, FBI Director James B. Comey, who
also served as President George W. Bush’s deputy attorney general, compared the wave
of militants pouring into Syria and Iraq to the rush to join Osama bin Laden in
Afghanistan as the Taliban swept that country. “We see Syria as that, but an order of
magnitude worse in a couple of respects,” he said. “Far more people going there. Far
easier to travel to and back from.”
But not everybody agrees that the United States should be alarmed. Writing in the New
Yorker last month, the journalist Steve Coll pointed to “some terrorism specialists,” who
argue that Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) is fighting a sectarian war and is
more concerned with killing other Muslims than Westerners; that it “has shown no
intent to launch attacks in the West, or any ability to do so.” In a widely cited article in
the American Political Science Review, Thomas Hegghammer, a senior research fellow
at the Norwegian Defense Establishment, argued that there is an essential
philosophical difference between those who carry out attacks at home and those who go
abroad to fight on behalf of al Qaeda and its affiliates. Many of the Westerners who
have gone to Syria and Iraq, he wrote, are unlikely to want to attack targets at home.
Yet fighters returning from Syria have already attempted to carry out violent attacks in
the West, and, in one instance, they succeeded. In October 2013, the London
Metropolitan Police stopped a car traveling near the Tower of London carrying two men
who were reportedly on their way to execute an attack. The two men, both London
residents but not British citizens, had recently returned from Syria. In March this year,
the French police unraveled a terrorist cell in Nice that was allegedly planning to use
improvised explosive devices on the French Riviera. The perpetrators had also recently
returned from Syria and were linked to a cell that was held responsible for an attack on
a Paris kosher shop in September 2012. Then, at the end of May, Mehdi Nemmouche, a
French citizen linked to a militant group known as Forsane Alizza (Knights of Pride),
killed three people in front of the Jewish museum in Brussels. He also apparently took
part in holding a group of journalists hostage in Syria between July 2013 and December
2013. In late July this year, the Norwegian government put the country on alert that
four terrorists from ISIS were on their way to carry out a bombing in the country. The
plan, it seems, was for the terrorists to kidnap a family, record themselves decapitating
its members, and then post the video to YouTube. And finally, this week, the Australian
police carried out the largest counterterrorism operation in the country’s history
against an ISIS-linked group based in Sydney. The group allegedly planned to carry out
random beheadings of one or more pedestrians taken off the street.
This doesn’t sound like a group of people who has no interest in attacking on Western
soil.
BY THE NUMBERS
According to official estimates, about 3,000 Westerners have joined ISIS or Jabhat al-
Nusra, the al Qaeda–affiliated group in Syria. In addition, hundreds of women from
Europe and Australia (and a few Americans) have followed the men, marrying them
online before they leave home or linking up with fighters after they arrive for training.
They are already pushing against traditional jihadist gender boundaries by setting up
female-only fighter groups and taking a prominent role on social media networks --
including posting pictures of themselves with mutilated corpses. They could very well
end up becoming violent themselves.
Armed and Dangerous Abroad | Create Infographics
If allowed back into their Western countries of origin, how many of these fighters --
both the men and women -- pose a serious threat to the West?
Here, historical data may provide a baseline estimate. For some years, I have worked
with my students to track Westerners who have committed terrorist acts on behalf of al
Qaeda and other jihadist groups in its mold. Between 2012 and May 2014, we identified
-- by name or fighter alias -- 600 who have left to fight in Syria and Iraq since June
2014. We also identified about 900 individuals who, between 1993 and until about
2012, fought in previous jihadist insurgencies or attempted to link up with terrorist
groups and training camps abroad associated with al Qaeda, not including the jihadist
groups in Syria and Iraq. Many of these veteran fighters fought in multiple
insurgencies. Some of them are now back at work in Syria or Iraq, or have died fighting
there. That makes for a data set of nearly 1,500 Western foreign fighters about whom
we have basic demographic information, such as age and national and ethnic origin. We
know which insurgency they participated in, and what they did after that.
The data show that, in fact, we should be very afraid of the “backflow” from Syria and
Iraq. The experience of fighting in a foreign conflict zone, or receiving military-style
training from a terrorist organization abroad, often primes Western militants to
perpetrate a violent attack at home.
By our count, there have been approximately 279 violent terrorist plots on Western soil
since 1993 that were unrelated to the ongoing mobilization in Syria and Iraq. (Here,
“plot” might more accurately be described as an arrest related to plans or attempts to
do something illegal related to terrorism.) Of the 279 plots, 114 (or 41 percent)
included foreign fighters. We identified 275 foreign fighters overall who participated in
these plots. Taking a baseline number of nearly 900 foreign fighters (all pre-Syria), in
other words, approximately one-in-three Western fighters or veterans of training camps
participated in a violent domestic plot. They also helped in fundraising, recruitment,
and other schemes, but non-violent activities are not included in this risk assessment.
Of course, producing clean metrics is tricky. “Doing something” abroad and at home
are closely related events, and the sequence does not necessarily go “training abroad
and then violent action at home.” (Of the 275 identified participants, 235, about 85
percent, participated in a Western plot after returning.) On occasion, perpetrators
became foreign fighters after attempting violence in the West. In those cases, they were
often fleeing to join a terrorist group abroad to avoid presenting themselves in court for
trial. Others launched attacks after going abroad and failing to obtain sponsorship from
an al Qaeda affiliate. Tarek Mehanna, a pudgy pharmacy student from Sudbury,
Massachusetts, made no less than three unsuccessful attempts to join an al Qaeda
affiliate abroad. After one of his unsuccessful trips, he and his friends played with the
idea of shooting up a local mall.
We can drill down still further to look at so-called homegrown conspiracies following
9/11 that have posed a significant risk of large-scale civilian casualties -- for example,
the Boston Marathon Bombings, the failed 2009 plot by three school friends from
Queens to bomb the New York City subway, and Faisal Shahzad’s failed 2010 Times
Square car bomb. We identified 24 such extremely violent plots on Western soil. Of
these, 79 percent -- four out of five -- involved returning foreign fighters or individuals
who had received training abroad. Of all returning foreign fighters, about one in 12
attempted something along these lines.
In short, not all Westerners return home from jihad abroad to take part in a violent
attack. But many do, and they tend to become involved with extremely dangerous plans.
Of course, alarming as these numbers are, the ratio of disrupted violent incidents to
actualized ones is high -- about four-to-one -- and has increased since the early years of
homegrown terrorism following the 9/11 attacks. The odds of disruption for the plots
that posed a significant risk of mass casualties are about 50–50.
ATTACK-READY
Assuming that past behavior contains some insights into future behavior, the historical
data can help policymakers assess the risk posed to domestic safety by Western
returnees from the battle in Syria and Iraq. Combat zone death rates are high among
the Western volunteers in Syria and Iraq, about one-in-three, by our count. Generally,
insurgent casualty rates are high, but the Westerners are also often used as suicide
bombers. (As one former ISIS fighter put it: “I saw many foreign recruits who were put
in the suicide squads not because they were ‘great and God wanted it’ as [ISIS]
commanders praised them in front of us, but basically because they were useless for
ISIS, they spoke no Arabic, they weren’t good fighters and had no professional skills.”)
Accepting the estimate that there are (or have been) about 3,000 Western fighters in
the theater, we would expect that about a thousand will die. Of those who don’t, most
return home or travel to another Western country. Using the one-in-three ratio of
returnees from previous conflicts who have come back to do something violent, we
would expect over 600 returning fighters from Syria and Iraq to attempt to carry out a
violent attack in a Western country within the next few years. This number does not
include the essentially unknowable risk stemming from the women who have become
radicalized during the time spent with their husbands in Iraq and Syria.
This is not to say that the current wave of jihadists is the same as previous waves. First,
the demographics of Westerners in Syria and Iraq today are very different from those in
previous jihadist insurgencies. For one, Western fighters in Syria are generally younger
(with a mean age of 24) than in previous conflicts. In Bosnia, the average age was 30. In
Pakistan and Afghanistan, before and after 9/11, the average was around 27. In the first
jihadist insurgency in Iraq (2004–07), the fighters were nearly 28 years old.
Recruitment through social media is often held responsible for the age shift, but ISIS
has also deliberately recruited very young fighters, even teenagers. Further, the
fighters in Syria and Iraq are far more diverse in terms of ancestral origin and race,
with white Europeans comprising about 20 percent. No clear socio-economic profile
exists either, with gang members from Europe’s ethnic enclaves and drop-outs from
universities and prestigious private schools joining up in equal measure. And, finally,
there are more women because of militant groups’ policy of getting young jihadists
married very early. Some of these factors would seem to indicate a heightened risk --
for example, the increased involvement of women would arguably expand the pool of
possible attackers. Other factors are more ambiguous -- young people on a jihadist “gap
year” may return home regretting what they have done. Or they might want to go
elsewhere and do something more when, if they survive, they leave or are expelled from
Iraq and Syria.
Second, unlike before 9/11, when recruitment was a product of direct contact with
exiled preachers based in the West, today, the recruitment of Westerners to fight in
Syria and Iraq comes from extensive jihadist organizations in the West with deep roots
and long histories of perpetrating violent attacks. The fighters in Syria and Iraq are
thus deeply enmeshed in networks that were already responsible for violent incidents in
West before the Syrian conflict captured their attention. That will increase the
likelihood that returnees will be redirected to plots in the West or dispatched to other
insurgencies abroad.
Finally, the jihadist ideology has changed from previous conflicts. In Afghanistan, the
enemy was the Soviet Union. In Bosnia, it was the Serbs. In Somalia, it was the
Ethiopians. In Syria and Iraq, the fight is primarily against other Muslims. And the
jihadist insurgents in Syria and Iraq --irrespective of their factional differences -- share
a strategic interest in expanding the conflict to the whole of the Middle East so that
they can undo the much-hated Sykes–Picot borders that effectively divided the
collapsing Ottoman Empire into British and French protectorates. These terrorists
recognize no borders or territorial limits to their fight. And that, too, increases the risk
that the returnees may become a significant security risk at home.
OUNCE OF PREVENTION
So what can the West do? Above all, it cannot discount the threat of Western fighters in
foreign conflicts. There are simply too many, and their ability and willingness to launch
major attacks on the West is too great, to ignore.
Preventing people from leaving to fight with a terrorist organization in the first place is
an urgent priority. All, or nearly all, of the newly minted Western-based jihadists from
the Syrian and Iraqi conflicts hold Western passports. Current administrative controls
target suspected terrorists and individuals who are known to have committed terrorist
acts but who, for one reason or another, cannot be charged with criminal offenses.
Measures range from impounding passports to imposing house arrests and curfews on
individuals who are considered a risk to public safety.
In the meantime, the West will have to calibrate its policing strategies to allow non-
combatants and those with regrets to come home, while sorting out dangerous
individuals for prosecution and detention. For pragmatic reasons -- ranging from
problems with obtaining evidence that meets the exacting standards of war crimes
prosecutions to cost considerations -- the authorities are likely to opt for prosecutions
on lesser charges for which the evidence may be obtained closer to home. That is, they
might focus on crimes committed in the West during the preparation for terrorist acts
committed abroad. On the positive side, such a strategy could get dangerous terrorists
off the street. On the negative, it will bring little comfort to the victims in Iraq and
Syria, and Western states may look unwilling to punish their own citizens for crimes
against non-Westerners.
Finally, there is the matter of providing justice to the victims. Westerners have
participated in executions and crucifixions and raped and plundered in Syria and Iraq.
Anticipating war crimes prosecutions of returnees, a number of countries (Sweden,
France, Spain, and Canada) have recently enshrined crimes against humanity in their
own countries’ penal code, allowing domestic courts to prosecute severe crimes
committed abroad. But such prosecutions require custody of the accused.
In other words, bringing the most hardened Western foreign fighters to justice would
require their capture and rendition on a large scale. No precedent exists for legal
renditions and judicial cooperation of this scale. In the past, European courts have
spent years fighting over extraditions of terrorists wanted for trial elsewhere. Khaled al-
Fawwaz, bin Laden’s secretary, went about his business in London for more than a
decade before he was extradited to stand trial in the United States on charges in
connection with his role in the planning of the 1998 bombings of the U.S. embassies in
Kenya and Tanzania. (The trial is set for November 3 in the Southern District of New
York.)
The West is now faced with a foreign fighter problem of an unprecedented scale. It can
expect that Westerners currently in Iraq and Syria will continue to commit atrocities
abroad and will come home and attempt some kind of terrorist plot. It can expect most
of the plots on Western soil to be thwarted and the perpetrators rounded up. That
means, however, that the Western legal systems will have to finally adjust to dealing
with unprecedented numbers of very dangerous people committing crimes for which
the evidence is largely foreign, photographic, or found online. The risk of not doing so is
already evident: a decade of terrorist recruitment in the West that drew thousands of
young people into a violent revolutionary movement -- all without provoking much of a
response.
In the United States, the panic that Americans will soon be slaughtered in their beds by
returning jihadists is barely concealed. That will not happen, but a realistic assessment
of the scale of the threat nonetheless calls for extraordinary measures and international
collaboration on the prevention, discovery, apprehension, and detention of the
operatives that are responsible for funneling Western recruits into jihad campaigns
abroad.
Research for this paper was supported by a grant from the U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Justice Program,
The National Institute of Justice. (Award 2012 ZA-BX-0006.) Opinions or points of view expressed in this paper are
those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position or policies of the U.S. Department of Justice.
Homeward Bound?
Don't Hype the Threat of Returning Jihadists
On May 24, 2014, a man opened fire inside the Jewish Museum in Brussels, quickly
killing three people and fatally wounding a fourth before disappearing into the city’s
streets. The alleged perpetrator, a French citizen named Mehdi Nemmouche, who has
since been arrested and charged with murder, had spent the previous year fighting with
jihadist opposition groups in Syria. His attack appeared to mark the first time that the
Syrian civil war had spilled over into the European Union. Many security officials in
Europe and the United States fear that this strike foreshadowed a spate of terrorist
attacks that the chaos in Syria—and now Iraq—could trigger.
The Syrian conflict has captured the imaginations and inflamed the passions of Muslims
around the world, spurring thousands to join the mostly Sunni rebels resisting the
Assad regime. The influx of volunteers has bolstered jihadist groups such as the Islamic
State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), also known as the Islamic State, a militant
organization that swept across Syria’s border into Iraq this past summer and
proclaimed an Islamic caliphate.
Although most foreign fighters in Syria and Iraq come from the Arab world, a sizable
contingent hails from the West’s large Muslim communities; 19 million Muslims live in
the EU, and more than two million call the United States home. Since the beginning of
the Syrian civil war, about 2,500 people from those places (as well as Australia, Canada,
and New Zealand) have traveled to Syria to fight, according to the Soufan Group, a U.S.
security consulting firm.
Intelligence officials fear that these volunteers might return from the battlefield as
terrorists trained to wage jihad against their home countries. Echoing these worries,
Charles Farr, the director of the British Office for Security and Counter-Terrorism,
described the Syrian war this past summer as “a very profound game changer” for the
extremist threat to Europe. Similarly, James Comey, the director of the FBI, warned in
May that the repercussions from the conflict might be “an order of magnitude worse”
than those that followed the turbulence in Afghanistan during the 1980s and 1990s,
which helped spur the formation of
al Qaeda. And U.S. President Barack Obama was
even more explicit during a prime-time speech to the nation on September 10, warning
that “thousands of foreigners—including Europeans and some Americans” have joined
ISIS militants and that “trained and battle-hardened, these fighters could try to return
to their home countries and carry out deadly attacks.”
But the threat presented by foreign fighters has been exaggerated, just as it was during
several other conflicts in recent years. Over the last decade, the Iraq war in particular
prompted similar warnings about a possible backlash that ultimately failed to
materialize. In fact, the vast majority of Western Muslims who set out to fight in the
Middle East today will not come back as terrorists. Many of them will never go home at
all, instead dying in combat or joining new military campaigns elsewhere, or they will
return disillusioned and not interested in bringing the violence with them. Even among
the rare individuals who do harbor such intentions, most will be less dangerous than
they are feared to be because they will attract the attention of authorities before they
can strike. It is telling that in the last two years alone, European security officials have
disrupted at least five terrorist plots with possible links to Syrian foreign fighters, in
locales ranging from Kosovo to the United Kingdom.
Still, the fact that the threat presented by returning Western jihadists will be less
apocalyptic than commonly assumed should not lull authorities into complacency.
Terrorism is a small-number phenomenon: even a few attackers can unleash horrific
violence if they have the training and motivation. Moreover, the extremists’ desire to
strike the West could well be on the rise, fueled by the U.S. bombing of ISIS targets
that began in August 2014. And because many more volunteers have traveled to Syria
and Iraq than to any other conflict zone in the past, many more will ultimately come
back.
Nevertheless, the danger posed by returning fighters is both familiar and manageable.
Several measures could help further reduce it, including efforts to dissuade would-be
volunteers from enlisting in the war to begin with and programs to reintegrate those
who do into society when they return. Western intelligence agencies should also do
more to disrupt common transit routes and track the militants who use them. And to
maintain their vigilance, governments must adequately fund and equip their security
services. Together, such measures will help prevent the violence in Syria and Iraq from
spilling over into the West.
Western fighters who travel to faraway war zones generally follow a similar path as
they make the transition from idealistic volunteers to seasoned militants. Most of those
who begin the journey do not complete it; still, some do, and at each step Western
officials can disrupt the progress of the few individuals who go all the way.
The first and most critical moment comes when a Muslim living in Europe or the United
States, most often a young man, decides to join a distant military campaign. His
motivations usually include a thirst for adventure and a desire to redress local and
regional grievances in the Muslim world, rather than animosity toward the West. In
Syria, most early volunteers aspired to defend the local population against the brutality
of the Assad regime, not to wage global jihad.
This pattern began to change in 2013 as the war took on a sectarian cast; today,
religious rivalry drives most of the recruits. The conflict has aggravated Sunni
prejudices against Shiite Muslims—old sentiments that heated up during the U.S. war
in Iraq and have now acquired new intensity. The ranks of militant Islamist groups in
Syria swelled in late 2013 after prominent religious leaders, such as the Egyptian cleric
Yusuf al-Qaradawi, called on all believers to defend Syrian Sunnis against the Assad
regime and its Iranian and Shiite Lebanese allies.
In the summer of 2014, ISIS’ stunning battlefield victories lent the organization
credibility and enhanced its allure for the small but important Western community of
young radicals it seeks to court. The group’s calls for an Islamic emirate and its
explicitly sectarian rhetoric have further radicalized the conflict. Such messages
percolate through social media sites, including Facebook and Twitter, where jihadists
often command large audiences. Isis, in particular, routinely churns out slick
recruitment videos in English.
The second phase of the foreign fighter’s path, traveling to the battlefield, has become
remarkably easy to accomplish. Whereas reaching many earlier conflict destinations,
such as Afghanistan, meant that Western volunteers had to face significant expenses
and dangers, physically getting to Syria entails few sacrifices. Recruits can simply
travel to Turkey—an easy trip by car, train, or plane requiring no visa for EU and U.S.
citizens—and then cross into Syria along its vast and porous border. Social media also
helps: ISIS and other radical groups, including one of ISIS’ rivals, the Syrian al Qaeda
affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra, offer ample online tips on how to contact them, including
which Turkish hotels to pick in order to meet their travel facilitators.
The potency of the sectarian message and the cross-border flow of information and
people help explain the unprecedented number of foreign fighters in Syria and Iraq
today—greater than for any conflict in recent memory. Leading specialists on the topic,
including Thomas Hegghammer of the Norwegian Defence Research Establishment and
Peter Neumann, a British expert on radicalization, have estimated that the Syrian war
has mobilized more European Islamists than all other foreign wars over the past 20
years combined. The U.S. share of the influx is smaller, but intelligence officials still
believe that at least 100 Americans have joined the Syrian war since 2011.
The third step on the newcomer’s path is to train and then actually fight on the
battlefield. Training not only burnishes the recruit’s practical skills; it also imbues him
with a sense of solidarity with a larger cause. This experience deepens his
indoctrination under the tutelage of sophisticated jihadists: Western security officials
fear that a newcomer who might not start out as anti-Western could be manipulated by
extremists to change his views, as happened with many fighters who went to
Afghanistan in the 1980s and 1990s. The brutal combat that follows further hardens his
resolve.
In the fourth step, the fighter returns home to keep the cycle going. Seasoned by battle,
he acquires a new authority among his neighbors and followers on social media—a
street cred that allows him to recruit and radicalize others and send them into the fray.
Finally, this veteran militant might decide to carry out a terrorist attack at home,
turning his attention from foreign causes to real or imagined domestic injustices that
may include, for example, insults against Islam, his home country’s perceived
oppression of Sunnis abroad, or the daily discrimination faced by Muslims. Analyzing
the history of terrorist plots against the West, Hegghammer has found that when such
strikes involved returned jihadists, they were both more likely to succeed and more
lethal than attacks staged by homegrown terrorists who had not fought abroad.
Given how few obstacles preclude Western Muslims from joining faraway battles and
returning home as terrorists, it might appear paradoxical that most conflicts in the
Middle East have spawned barely any fighters who followed this path from start to
finish. Syria and Iraq are likely to produce a similar pattern. True, the Syrian war bears
many unique traits that significantly magnify the risk. Yet it is crucial not to exaggerate
this threat, as governments and analysts have repeatedly done in the past, and to study
historical and present-day intelligence in order to temper the dire predictions.
Iraq’s previous war offers the most obvious example. Between 2003 and 2011, dozens
of Muslims from Europe and the United States traveled to Iraq to fight Western forces.
Some of them supported al Qaeda after it established a local affiliate in 2004 (a group
known as al Qaeda in Iraq, which became the precursor to ISIS), and many grew more
radicalized during their stay. In 2005, then CIA Director Porter Goss warned the Senate
Select Committee on Intelligence that “Islamic extremists are exploiting the Iraqi
conflict to recruit new anti-U.S. jihadists.”
Yet despite such grim predictions, jihadist veterans of Iraq failed to perpetrate
successful terrorist acts in the West. A few cases bore indirect evidence of a link to the
conflict, including a bungled June 2007 strike on the Glasgow airport; investigators
found that the attackers’ cell phones contained the numbers of several operatives
linked to al Qaeda in Iraq. But even in that case, U.S. officials ultimately judged the plot
to be “al Qaeda–related, rather than al Qaeda–directed.”
Syria and Iraq today are likely to echo this historical record. For one, many foreign
volunteers will die in combat. The ferocity of the fighting in Syria and now Iraq—as the
radicals battle the two countries’ governments, the Syrian mainstream opposition, and,
increasingly, one another—exceeds that of other recent conflicts. Researchers believe
that the death toll among foreign volunteers in Syria has already surpassed that of the
Iraq war, in which about five percent of all Western fighters are thought to have died.
Of those who do survive, many will never return home, fearing arrest or choosing to
wage jihad in other foreign lands. One European intelligence official estimated in an
interview with us in May 2014 that from ten to 20 percent of foreign combatants have
no plans to come back to their former countries of residence. (The official requested to
remain anonymous because he was not authorized to discuss sensitive information.)
Furthermore, the Islamist groups active in Syria and Iraq, including ISIS, are not
especially interested in attacking Europe or the United States. Instead, they are far
more focused on fighting Shiites and local regimes. Many prominent Sunni clerics
known for spurring holy warriors to action emphasize the importance of first winning
such local contests before striking the West.
The case of Moner Mohammad Abusalha, the first American to carry out a suicide
bombing in Syria, illustrates this phenomenon. Originally from Florida, Abusalha joined
Jabhat al-Nusra after traveling to Syria in late 2013, and his death stirred U.S. officials’
fears of a terrorist attack on domestic soil. An American citizen, Abusalha seemed to
have been a perfect candidate to strike the United States. But Jabhat al-Nusra ordered
him to attack Syrian government forces instead—a choice that clearly demonstrated the
group’s current priorities. The same logic applied to the British national suspected of
killing the American journalists James Foley and Steven Sotloff this past August and
September; even though the journalists’ killer could have potentially wreaked havoc in
London or elsewhere in Europe, ISIS assigned him a gruesome local task that would
make him one of the most wanted men in the world, forever unable to return home.
The U.S. bombing of ISIS positions could change this sense of priorities. As the United
States officially enters the fray against ISIS and U.S. involvement in the conflict
deepens, the group may shift its priorities to attacking the U.S. homeland, or the West
in general, out of revenge or defiance. But for now, ISIS’ attention remains focused on
its campaign against Syrian and Iraqi government forces.
Infighting among jihadist groups will further thin out the ranks of foreign recruits. Even
as its fighters rolled into Iraq earlier this year, ISIS was embroiled in a bitter clash with
Jabhat al-Nusra in Syria. Although both organizations follow Salafi jihadist ideology,
ISIS rejected al Qaeda’s leadership and aspects of its agenda, which led to a formal
break between the two groups in February 2014. The resulting hostilities have already
claimed more than 3,000 lives, according to the most conservative estimates, including
the lives of four out of the five British volunteers killed in Syria during the first half of
this year. Apart from augmenting the death toll, this kind of infighting breeds
disillusionment among foreign recruits. European intelligence officials have found that
some would-be volunteers often sour on the idea of enlisting when told that they might
have to shoot at old neighbors from across the street, not Assad loyalists or the
supposed apostates.
Another common reason for disillusionment is the horrors that Western fighters witness
in the conflict zones, especially the Muslim-on-Muslim violence roiling Syria and Iraq.
Recruits often set out in pursuit of “the T-shirt and the pictures” but come back
terrified and even traumatized by what they have seen and experienced, according to
the European intelligence official we interviewed.
With very few exceptions, Western Muslims who do return home rarely complete the
transition to terrorist, even if they continue to vehemently oppose their countries’
policies and values. In fact, the majority go on to lead largely ordinary lives.
Hegghammer has found that only one in nine fighters who went abroad between 1990
and 2010 came back interested in attacking at home. The nature of the conflict in which
they took part also plays a role. Combatants returning from Syria are likely to pose
much less of a threat than veterans of al Qaeda’s training facilities in Pakistan; because
al Qaeda’s goals are more explicitly anti-Western than those of ISIS, al Qaeda fighters
will account for a larger share of the plots in Europe and the United States.
The few individuals who remain bent on violence after returning from Syria and Iraq
will often be easy targets for counterterrorism officials. For one, their heavy reliance on
social media will become a double-edged sword. By openly publicizing and bragging
about their activities online, these people identify themselves to security services and at
times supply valuable intelligence data: their group affiliation, intentions, and
associates. Officials can also glean useful information by studying their lists of friends
and followers. As the European official explained to us, some potential terrorists remain
“totally invisible” to authorities until they set out for Syria or Iraq and expose
themselves online.
What’s more, former foreign fighters contemplating violence at home could find that
their experience in Syria and Iraq has left them ill equipped for the task. Although many
learn some guerilla-warfare skills, such as handling small arms, they often lack the
knowledge most useful for mounting successful terrorist attacks: how to conduct
surveillance, avoid detection, and build a clandestine network. And when they operate
in groups—a necessity for executing large-scale strikes—they are even more likely to
come to the security services’ attention.
Even the sole successful attack in Brussels demonstrated why fighters returning from
the Syrian war pose less of a danger than is often supposed. In executing his assault,
Nemmouche acted alone, which allowed him to escape authorities’ notice but also
limited the damage he was able to cause. And although he had picked up some combat
skills in Syria, Nemmouche appeared to lack any knowledge of concealment or evasion.
He never got rid of his Kalashnikov rifle following the shooting; instead, he wrapped it
in an ISIS flag and boarded a bus on a well-known and well-policed cannabis-smuggling
route from Amsterdam to Marseille, leading to his quick arrest.
Finally, foreign fighters may be reluctant to bring violence back home for the simple
reason that doing so could endanger their friends and relatives. In an interview with
The New York Times, a friend of Abdisalan Hussein Ali, a Somali American from
Minnesota who blew himself up in a 2011 attack on African Union troops in Mogadishu,
recalled a revealing statement Ali had made two years before he left for Somalia. He
would never attack the United States, Ali had said, since “my mom could be walking
down the street.”
Analyzing each step of the journey taken by Westerners who travel to fight in Syria and
Iraq—as well as the factors that prevent them from staging attacks back
home—suggests several policy measures that could further reduce the risk. First,
Western security services should step up their efforts to dissuade the recruits from
volunteering in the first place. One model for how to do this is a government-run
program in Denmark that allows officials to seek out and speak with potential recruits
in an informal setting, often in conjunction with family members and local community
leaders. The goal of such conversations is always to persuade, not coerce. Because the
cooperation of families and communities is so vital to this task, officials are careful to
press home the message that the Muslim population is a valued part of the solution,
rather than the problem. And if individuals do volunteer and go abroad to fight with
militants, governments could take measures to prevent their return; one program
proposed by British Prime Minister David Cameron in September intends to accomplish
just that by confiscating the passports of suspected radical fighters.
Western governments should also do more to make it harder for would-be jihadists to
reach Syria and Iraq through Turkey. Until recently, Ankara’s opposition to the Assad
regime made Turkey a tacit supporter of fighters streaming across its border. But the
rise of ISIS and the looming threat of extremism on Turkey’s own soil have made its
government more receptive to Western calls to halt the flow. The United States and
European countries should use this opportunity to devise a better system for sharing
information with Turkish intelligence and police agencies. For a start, Western officials
could issue travel alerts for specific individuals and encourage Turkey to bar them from
entering the country or crossing into Syria from its territory.
Western security agencies should also do everything they can to sow doubt in the minds
of extremist leaders in Syria and Iraq about the true loyalties of Western Muslim
volunteers. This could be accomplished by publicizing intelligence, either obtained from
former recruits or even falsely generated by officials themselves, about the degree to
which Western security services have infiltrated the jihadists’ ranks. If extremist
militias come to view foreigners as potential spies or disseminators of corrupting
influences, they might assign Western volunteers to noncombat roles, test their
allegiances by offering them the one-way ticket of suicide bombings, or even avoid
enlisting them altogether.
Western governments should instead focus on reintegrating former fighters, despite the
political difficulty of spending public resources on people whom many consider
terrorists. Some returnees will require psychological counseling and treatment for
posttraumatic stress disorder; failing to provide it might make them more dangerous
than they otherwise would be. If fear of prosecution prevents former fighters from
seeking counseling and treatment, they will be less able to reintegrate into civilian life
and leave their violent pasts behind.
Last, even though the threat from returning jihadists has been overblown, Western
governments still need to devote considerable resources to the problem. Keeping track
of the vast roster of suspects that the intelligence agencies must maintain under
surveillance at any given time will be exceptionally taxing on both budgets and
personnel. But because the influx of foreign fighters to Syria and Iraq exceeds those of
previous conflicts, the number of intelligence and police officials dedicated to the
problem should grow in parallel. For government agencies, the challenge often lies not
in accessing or gathering information about the returnees but in swiftly processing and
analyzing it before reacting.
Western governments should also continue to seek ways to alleviate civilian suffering in
Syria and Iraq. Many foreign fighters remain driven by a genuine desire to defend
Syrians against the brutality of the Assad regime, even as sectarianism takes increasing
sway over rival groups. Encouraging charitable activities, identifying legitimate
channels for delivering humanitarian aid, and otherwise helping prevent unnecessary
loss of civilian life could go a long way toward stemming the flow of foreigners to the
war zone.
As long as the Syrian civil war and the ISIS offensive in Iraq continue, however, some
fallout in the West appears inevitable. Terrorism is an unfortunate feature of modern
life that cannot be eradicated; it can only be mitigated. Indeed, the Obama
administration’s decision to intervene against ISIS makes the group more likely to try to
expand its list of immediate targets. Yet it is important to avoid panic and to recognize
that both the United States and the EU have fended off the worst outcomes in the past
and will likely continue to do so.
Measures to reduce the threat of terrorism can and should be improved. But the
standard of success cannot be eliminating risk in its totality. If it is, Western
governments are doomed to failure and, worse, to an overreaction that will breed far
more dangerous policy mistakes.
DANIEL BYMAN is a Professor in the Security Studies Program at the Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Service
at Georgetown University and a Senior Fellow at the Center for Middle East Policy at the Brookings Institution.
Follow him on Twitter @dbyman. JEREMY SHAPIRO is a Fellow with the Project on International Order and Strategy
and at the Center on the United States and Europe at the Brookings Institution and a former member of the U.S.
State Department’s Policy Planning Staff. Follow him on Twitter @jyshapiro.
ISIS' Gruesome Gamble
Why the Group Wants a Confrontation with the United
States
Barak Mendelsohn
Displaced people from the Yezidi minority group in northern Iraq, August 13, 2014.
RODI SAID / COURTESY REUTERS
The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), which is also called the Islamic State, is on
the march. Two months after first sweeping through northern and central Iraq, it has
started to push onward to Erbil, the seat of the Kurdish Regional Government. Along
the way, it triggered a severe humanitarian crisis among Iraq’s Yezidi and Christian
minorities and caused massive panic across the Kurdish autonomous region, which
forced a reluctant United States to intervene. ISIS has also used its momentum to
continue its expansion in Syria and, for a few days, even managed to hold parts of the
Lebanese border city of Arsal. More confident than ever, ISIS is taking on a broad array
of enemies, including the Iraqi, Syrian, and Lebanese militaries; Iraqi and Lebanese
Shia militias; Kurds from Iraq, Syria, and Turkey; and Islamist and secular Syrian
opposition forces. Now even U.S. air power is joining the fray.
From a military perspective, ISIS’ willingness to fight so many groups on so many fronts
is impressive. In part, its boldness was made possible by the weakness of many of its
rivals. The huge store of deadly, high-quality weapons that the group picked up on its
march through Iraq has helped as well. Finally, ISIS has also demonstrated a surprising
ability to rearrange and redeploy forces as the group’s operational needs change. Its
reputation for military prowess (and brutality) has only grown, which in turn has
further weakened resistance to its moves and sent civilians running whenever ISIS
forces got close.
ISIS’ relatively unimpeded march toward Erbil caught the White House and many other
observers by surprise. Most had expected that the jihadist group would concentrate its
efforts in Iraq on Baghdad, the capital and a historical seat of the Abbasid Caliphate,
where numerous Sunni reside. They also believed that the Kurdish peshmarga forces
were strong enough to deter ISIS attacks and would be able to block its advance if
deterrence failed. That turns out to have been wrong, a miscalculation that forced the
Obama administration’s hand. Still, because ISIS’ move provoked a U.S. bombardment,
some believe it might well be its undoing.
For that reason, ISIS’ strategy might seem like a surprising overreach. It is entirely
consistent, however, with the path the group charted early on, which tended toward the
bold and risky. In fact, ISIS’ recent moves are simply a continuation of prior efforts to
expand its control over new territory and natural resources (primarily oil fields and
water dams that it can use for income and tools of war), enforce its harsh ideology, and
strengthen its own primacy within the jihadi camp.
For now, it is impossible to say whether ISIS intended to provoke the United States to
intervene or simply miscalculated. But it is hard to believe ISIS did not understand that
threatening the capital of Iraqi Kurdistan would mean directly challenging the U.S.
alliance with the Kurds and potentially provoking it to fight. Indeed, it is likely that ISIS
viewed such a challenge as a win-win situation.
If the United States had failed to protect its allies, ISIS forces would have been able to
advance deep into Kurdish territory and masses of “undesirable” non-Sunni inhabitants
would have fled. The demonstration of U.S. timidity would also have given ISIS a boost
as it set its sights on Jordan, another anxious U.S. ally in need of Washington’s defense.
If the United States decided to step in on behalf of its allies -- as it did -- then ISIS must
have believed that it would be able to strengthen its position within the jihadi camp.
ISIS could use the bombings as evidence that the United States is waging a war on
Islam, and to portray itself as the defender of Muslims from “Crusader” aggression. In
other words, ISIS would steal a page right out of al Qaeda’s playbook. And that puts
more pressure on al Qaeda. After all, if ISIS wins vast territory in the heart of the
Middle East, implements Islamic governance, and battles apostate regimes and their
backers, al Qaeda will -- after refusing to do so -- have to give its full support to ISIS.
Already, ISIS supporters are calling all jihadi forces to stand behind Omar al-Baghdadi,
the leader of ISIS. As a result, the flow of fighters abandoning al Qaeda affiliates to join
ISIS, which U.S. intelligence has already observed, is likely to increase. Moreover,
leaders of al Qaeda franchises will come under greater pressure to shift allegiance from
al Qaeda to ISIS.
Of course, getting the United States involved carries considerable risks. ISIS does not
have an answer to American airpower. From the air, the United States is capable of
delivering painful blows that can significantly degrade the group. And by supporting
Kurdish forces on the ground, U.S. intervention could even reverse ISIS’ advances in
the north. But U.S. President Barack Obama’s caution when it comes to foreign
interventions, and his obvious distaste for getting entangled in Iraq again, appear to
have mitigated the risks for ISIS. Indeed, the United States seems intent on the most
minimal intervention possible, striking very few targets, and aiming to create
deterrence more than rolling back ISIS advances on the ground. Moreover, Obama’s
aversion to doing anything in Syria means that ISIS-controlled territories there will be a
safe haven for the group no matter what happens in Iraq.
Although the push against the Kurds can be seen as serving the Islamic State’s
strategic objectives, the persecution of minorities, particularly the beginning of a
genocidal drive against the Yezidis, should be viewed not only as an effort to intimidate
the opponents of ISIS, but also as the fulfillment of ISIS’ radical ideology, which
includes special taxes for minorities, forced deportations or, as in the case of the
Yezidis, a choice between conversion or death. This ideology is an integral part of ISIS’
broader effort to implement Islamic governance and has some precedents in its actions
in Syria. In the absence of concerted international action, it will continue to oppress,
chase away, and, in the worst cases, kill minorities under its rule.
ISIS has been clear about its expansionist and exclusionary Caliphate project, and now
that truth has finally sunk in with the Obama administration. Getting involved in Iraq
carries risks, but if the United States will not lead -- and from the front this time -- the
ISIS threat will only grow. A lasting solution to the problem requires deep political
changes in Iraq and, just as important, in Syria, which Washington has largely ignored.
Such changes are unlikely to materialize fast enough to answer an urgent threat. In the
meantime, although a comprehensive aerial campaign could weaken ISIS considerably,
the narrow scope of U.S. strikes will provide only modest and insufficient relief.
Fighting ISIS will inevitably generate some resentment against the United States.
However, the danger that would result from allowing ISIS to expand unchecked is far
worse. Unless the United States is willing to walk away from the Middle East for good,
it will have to face ISIS head on. And doing so will cost much more the longer the
United States waits.
Robin Simcox
U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry during a joint news conference with Egypt's Foreign Minister,
September 13, 2014.
BRENDAN SMIALOWSKI / COURTESY REUTERS
To fulfill his vow to “destroy” the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), U.S.
President Barack Obama will have to make a lengthy military commitment to Iraq and
Syria. So far, however, the United States has limited its involvement to air strikes in
Iraq and some military assistance to Iraqi and Kurdish forces on the ground. Obama’s
speech this month also raised the prospect of air strikes in Syria.
Yet, within the halls of Western power, there are still those who regard using military
force against ISIS as a mistake, believing that it will bolster the jihadists’ narrative of
the West vs. Islam and aid ISIS propaganda -- especially if there are civilian casualties.
In turn, ISIS will find it easier to recruit new members. For that reason, some have
argued, ISIS was hoping to provoke a showdown with the United States all along.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Looking at the group’s recent history, it is
clear that the last thing ISIS would want is for the United States to step up its military
efforts in Iraq. After all, it was the U.S. military -- in conjunction with Sunni tribes --
that crushed the group’s emerging network in Iraq in late 2006 and early 2007. By
2008, the group's estimated 15,000 membership had been eviscerated by the death of
2,400 of its members and the capture of another 8,800. At the time of the U.S. troop
withdrawal from Iraq in December 2011, the network now known as ISIS had between
800 and 1,000 members
Although the ongoing civil war in Syria may have reenergized ISIS, it was the U.S.
withdrawal that really turned the group’s fortunes around. For example, with the U.S.
departure, Iraqi special forces lost access to American intelligence and helicopter
transportation, significantly diminishing their abilities to carry out nighttime
counterterrorism operations. On the political side, Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki
took the withdrawal as his cue to purge senior military figures whom the United States
had trusted and replace them with vastly less competent loyalists. By October 2012, the
Iraqi jihadist network had taken advantage of this to more than double in size and
virtually double the amount of attacks it was carrying out a week.
That is why ISIS’ activities in Iraq -- particularly the beheadings of the American
journalists James Foley and Steven Sotloff, which members of government, including
Representative Adam Schiff (D-Cal.), a member of the House Intelligence Committee,
have argued were meant to tempt Obama into action -- are really meant to deter the
United States.
In the video of Foley’s beheading, for example, a British ISIS fighter suspected of
carrying out the murder claims to be retaliating against U.S. bombing raids and the
United States’ attempt “to deny the Muslims their rights of living in safety under the
Islamic caliphate.” In the second video, Sotloff is made to ask whether U.S. citizens are
interested in another war against ISIS having already “spent billions of U.S. taxpayers’
dollars and … lost thousands of our troops.” The British ISIS fighter warns governments
looking to assist the United States to “back off and leave our people alone.” The video
then cuts to an image of the British hostage, David Haines. These videos,
understandably, did not lead to a change in Western policy, and Haines was killed next.
The rhetoric in the video of his killing is similar to that in the Foley and Sotloff videos.
The British ISIS fighter explicitly references how the Western military campaign in Iraq
will lead to “another bloody and unwinnable war,” and that by continuing the fight
against ISIS, the West will cause more British citizens to die. Alan Henning, another
British man captured by ISIS, is identified as the next potential victim.
ISIS’ ideological forebears have used similar tactics with Western hostages. When
American citizen Nicholas Berg and British citizen Kenneth Bigley were beheaded by
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s network in 2004, Zarqawi was not trying to draw the United
States and United Kingdom more deeply into the Iraq war. (There were already over
140,000 U.S. troops in Iraq at the time of Berg’s murder.) Rather, he was trying to
weaken public support for the war and test whether the West had the stomach for this
kind of fight. For example, prior to his death, Bigley was forced to read a statement
saying that “Iraqis don't like foreign troops on their soil walking down the street with
guns -- it's not right and it's not fair. We need to pull the troops out.”
ISIS also has a sound strategic reason for trying to deter further Western military
escalation. Retaining and expanding its territory is the group’s main goal. The longer
the caliphate endures, the more credible it seems and the more recruits it can attract.
The end result of ramped up Western military action is likely to be the loss of much of
ISIS’ territory and the collapse of its caliphate, shattering its image of strength and the
inevitability of its advance. This was the case with al Qaeda franchises in Somalia,
Yemen, and Mali in recent years. These groups, although not able to match ISIS in
terms of numbers and ability to hold land, have all relinquished territory after military
reverses. In other words, a new war would likely send ISIS back to where it was before
2014: it would be a security threat, especially to Iraq, but no longer a credible
challenger to al Qaeda in terms of its reach and capacity.
In turn, if the West is serious about defeating ISIS, the group cannot be allowed to hold
on to the territory it now controls. Local forces are not up to the task of reclaiming land
from ISIS, and regional actors are showing little interest in intervention. Since ISIS is
not going to give up without a fight, significant Western military involvement is
required. Some argue that such involvement will increase the prospect of ISIS
retribution in the West. Yet ISIS was a threat to the West long before American air
strikes. Over the last decade, the group has been connected to multiple terrorist attacks
in Europe, offered financial reward for the murder of European citizens, and was linked
to a plan to transport chemical weapons into the West. Allowing its members control of
a safe haven from which it could recruit and train new fighters only increases the threat
that ISIS poses.
It is true that there will be unpleasant consequences for reengaging in Iraq. It would be
naive to think there will no price to pay for taking on a terrorist army that is killing its
enemies with impunity, controlling a significant territory in two strategically important
countries, and whose fighters have a stated desire to kill Westerners. There is also an
emerging consensus that any successful strategy to comprehensively weaken ISIS will
take years -- a commitment for which public support is unclear.
None of this, however, means that avoiding conflict there will bolster Western security.
By not acting, the West would be relying on the group to self-destruct. And that is too
risky. For his part, Obama has shown a willingness to take military action, even though
it means reversing his previous policies in Iraq and Syria. Yet there may be another
reversal ahead. Obama has vowed to “destroy” ISIS without using ground troops in a
combat role. These two things may yet prove mutually exclusive.
Steven Simon
A boy sits on a wheel in front of the bullet-riddled facade of a mosque in Damascus, October 4, 2014.
BASSAM KHABIEH / COURTESY REUTERS
U.S. President Barack Obama has taken pains to avoid being drawn into Syria’s civil
war. He does not appear convinced that the United States has sufficient strategic
interests in Syria to warrant—let alone sustain—another long-term commitment of
military force to shape the outcome of what is a complicated and many-sided struggle.
Even as Obama has expanded the U.S. war against the Islamic State of Iraq and al-
Sham (ISIS) to include targets in Syria, then, he has tried to circumscribe the mission.
The aim is to battle ISIS without either aiding or fighting the regime of Syrian President
Bashar al-Assad. But the balancing act is proving difficult. The United States could soon
face a choice between appearing to provide tacit support to Syrian government forces
and joining the fight against them.
The United States has long faced pressure to intervene in Syria’s civil war; it dates back
to 2011, even before early skirmishes turned into high-intensity combat. Then as now,
the administration’s stance was cautious. At that stage, it looked as though Assad might
go the way of Tunisia’s Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali or Egypt’s Hosni Mubarak. Given the
brittleness of the Assad regime, the use of force seemed unnecessary. And in any case,
there was no appetite for a bidding war with Iran for Syria.
Yet the Assad regime proved more resilient than many expected. Interest in arming and
training the Syrian rebels only grew, despite Washington’s evident inability to wield
influence over the hundreds of partially radicalized armed groups already proliferating
in Syria, let alone mold them into a unified opposition army. As we now know from
multiple memoirs, Obama overruled his secretaries of defense and state, who urged him
to do more to arm those rebels in late 2012.
Calls to help overthrow Assad grew louder after his regime used chemical weapons
against civilian populations in August 2013. Again, Obama declined to strike once the
United Kingdom opted out of military involvement and Russia proffered a diplomatic
alternative that eventually stripped the regime of its chemical weapons. The resulting
mix of disappointment and anger at home over a forgone opportunity to strike Assad’s
forces was bound to make it harder for Obama to say no the next time a challenge
arose.
And it did. Following reports that ISIS, which had just overrun the western provinces of
Iraq and entered Mosul, was intent on the genocide of a religious minority in Iraq, the
United States immediately launched air strikes to protect the vulnerable and safeguard
American officials in Erbil. The use of force never comes without unintended
consequences, and in this case, the attacks precipitated the murder of two Americans,
which in turn amplified calls for military escalation.
Even so, in that early phase of U.S. military operations, the air campaign was in the
service of a clear, if limited, interest in protecting the American strategic investment in
Iraq by relieving jihadist pressure on Baghdad and pushing the divisive prime minister,
Nouri al-Maliki, out of office. To the extent that prospective strikes in Syria were
discussed, their narrow aim was to deprive what was seen as an Iraqi insurgency of its
sanctuary across the border. As the objective expanded to include the destruction of
ISIS, though, U.S. strikes have extended as far west as the outskirts of Syria’s former
cultural and economic capital of Aleppo, now a vast rubble field contested by the
regime and a congeries of rebel militias, and as far north as the Turkish border.
These attacks, with their implied promise of close air support for non-jihadist fighters
assailed by ISIS, have brought the United States perilously close to entry into the
Syrian civil war. Turkish Prime Minister Ahmet Davutoglu’s recent offer to send Turkish
troops into Syria if the United States would, in return, directly attack the Assad
regime—and Ankara’s wrangling with the United States over access to Turkish air
bases—has only added to sustained pressure coming from the Gulf allies.
The key question is: What happens if one of the non-jihadist opposition groups that the
United States is aiding in the fight against ISIS requests urgent assistance against the
Assad regime? If the United States fails to come to the group’s aid, the support the
United States enjoys among these groups by virtue of its airpower and train-and-equip
efforts would swiftly fade. But if the United States accedes to the request, then it
unequivocally becomes a combatant in the civil war. And if the United States consents
to Turkey’s proposal for a safe haven within Syria for refugees and possibly as a base
for an opposition army—essentially a tethered goat stratagem designed to trigger
regime attacks that American planes would then have to repel—Washington would
become even more deeply engaged in the conflict.
The civil war in Syria does, of course, endanger some U.S. strategic interests. Iraq, for
example, is one, and the United States has acted decisively to protect it. Jordan is
another, given the Hashemite Kingdom’s historically close relationship with the United
States (it is a Major non-NATO Ally) and its close security links to Israel. The influx of
Syrian refugees into that country is a threat to its stability, as is the receptive audience
ISIS has found among the unemployed youth in its impoverished desert cities. In
response, the United States ramped up its already considerable economic and military
aid to Jordan and, last December, deployed 6,000 soldiers to Jordan for a large-scale
exercise. Likewise, Lebanon has received billions in military aid from Riyadh, while
Hezbollah fields a force that has faced the Israeli army on the battlefield and is
ideologically primed to contest ISIS attempts to establish a beachhead in Lebanon. And
between 2012 and now, the United States has provided nearly $3 billion in
humanitarian aid for displaced Syrians.
But there is no equivalent U.S. interest in Syria per se. For 40 years, it was a strategic
ally of the Soviets; it then switched its allegiance to another strategic adversary, Iran.
Most Syrians are skeptical of U.S. intentions, owing to decades of support for Israel as
well as the United States’ hands-off approach to the civil war. Assad’s outreach to
Washington, which came only a short time before rebellion broke out, was too little, too
late. There is no history of cooperation, shared causes, or solemn commitments. Syria is
of no military value to the United States, which has ample basing and access options
throughout the Mediterranean rim, and of negligible economic value.
It would be strategically useful to completely deny Syrian territory to Iran, but the
attempt to do so would likely increase Iran’s military involvement and heighten
sectarian tensions, while complicating efforts to reach a deal on Iran’s nuclear
program. Although some terrorist attacks in the West, such as the one just carried out
in Canada, will certainly arise from a jihadized Syria, the long-term investment the
United States has made in homeland security and intelligence programs, combined with
air strikes that keep ISIS conspirators in Syria and Iraq off balance, should contain the
problem without the burden of a new expeditionary commitment.
Hence the administration’s dilemma. On the one hand, military intervention in the civil
war would commit the United States to an expensive and ongoing enterprise unrelated
to a strategic interest in Syria itself. On the other, it might prove necessary in order to
bring other countries’ firepower to bear against ISIS. While Washington debates the
question, however, its air operations deep in Syrian territory could propel the United
States into the civil war without a considered or explicit decision.
STEVEN SIMON is Senior Fellow at the Middle East Institute in Washington, D.C.
The Hollow Coalition
Washington's Timid European Allies
Participants stand during the opening ceremony of NATO tactical exercise in Poland, September 2014.
KACPER PEMPEL / COURTESY REUTERS
Three months since U.S. bombs first struck Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS)
targets in Iraq, the Obama administration has touted its 62-country coalition as a
crowning achievement. Although this number might seem impressive, however, it is
misleading. Of the 62 nominal allies for Operation Inherent Resolve (as the campaign is
now called), only 16 have actually committed military forces, and only 11 have
conducted offensive operations to date. Many appear willing to pay lip service to U.S.
President Barack Obama’s condemnation of ISIS, only to ignore his subsequent call to
arms.
Nowhere is European reticence more apparent than in the share of airstrikes. In Libya,
90 percent of the air raids were carried out by Washington’s coalition partners,
destroying more than 6,000 targets. This percentage puts the U.S. allies’ current
share—approximately 10 percent of over 800 strikes conducted so far in Iraq and
Syria—to shame. The share of the EU is even smaller, since some strikes were
conducted by other coalition partners: Australia, Canada, and five Arab states. And this
time around, the European countries are openly admitting that their contribution would
be mere window-dressing. As British Foreign Secretary Philip Hammond
acknowledged in a particularly candid testimony in early September, the British
contribution aimed primarily at bolstering “a political coalition of nations” rather than
changing the military tide. Seventy years after British and American soldiers landed in
nearly equal numbers on the beaches of Normandy, even the United Kingdom, which
has Europe’s most powerful military, recognizes that it can no longer be decisive on
the battlefield.
The reason for the European countries’ lackluster effort lies not in their war weariness
or a miscalculation of their interests but in their vastly diminished military
capacity—the result of deep cuts to their defense budgets. Put simply, Washington’s
European allies no longer have the strength to conduct and sustain even medium-sized
military operations.
Europe’s military spending plummeted after the Cold War, and the recent recession has
prompted five consecutive years of further cuts in absolute terms. The defense budgets
of most NATO nations now stand at their lowest point since 2001, according to the
Stockholm International Peace Research Institute. Currently, only Estonia, Greece, and
the United Kingdom meet NATO’s mutually agreed-upon target for defense
spending—defined as two percent of GDP—even though member states reaffirmed
their commitment to that target at a NATO summit in September. In 2013, European
NATO members (a group that includes Turkey) spent a combined $270 billion on
defense, which is less than half of the annual U.S. defense budget. As a result, the
United States will likely dedicate more money to Operation Inherent Resolve than the
majority of European NATO states will allocate to security and defense in the whole
year.
NOT ON TARGET
The Libyan campaign, which some observers have praised as an example of European
military effectiveness and used to urge more European involvement in Syria, represents
just the opposite. In fact, it underscores Europe’s declining military clout by
demonstrating that EU countries can mount a successful military operation only under
a best-case scenario. Cases that, like Iraq and Syria today, present greater strategic
and logistic challenges quickly bring Europe’s vulnerabilities to the fore.
Several factors combined to make Libya the perfect staging ground for a European
military intervention. First, the operation took place just off the European coast, well
within the range of European air bases. By contrast, to strike ISIS targets, European
planes must fly out of Cyprus, Jordan, and the Persian Gulf countries—a far more
difficult task from the logistical and diplomatic standpoints. Second, Libya’s vast
stretches of open desert between population centers made for an easier operating
environment. Although western Iraq is likewise sparsely populated, ISIS strongholds
such as the cities of Mosul (in northern Iraq) and Raqqa (in Syria) are not. Finally,
unlike Qaddafi’s army, which had lost its edge long before the West intervened, ISIS
fighters are well funded, well armed, and able to score impressive victories.
Yet even in that favorable situation, European countries found their logistic and
intelligence capabilities stretched to the limit, forcing them to rely on U.S. forces.
Noting these shortfalls, the 2013 edition of The Military Balance, an annual assessment
of global defense capabilities published by the International Institute for Strategic
Studies, concluded that the Libyan operation highlighted Europe’s military decline
rather than heralding Europe’s emergence as a capable security actor.
Furthermore, after the initial victory in Libya, it quickly became clear that the Western
operation there was not a success. Libya is in a state of anarchy. Its capital has fallen to
Islamist militant factions, its parliament has fled, and its oil production hovers far below
prewar levels. Meanwhile, nearby European countries are struggling to stem the tide of
refugees streaming across Libyan borders. As just one example, Italy plans to
discontinue its yearlong search-and-rescue operation in the central Mediterranean,
which has saved the lives of more than 150,000 migrants. Its place will be taken by the
new Operation Triton, funded by eight member states and intended to “ensure
effective border control.” In other words, only three years after they intervened to save
Libyans from oppression, the European nations find themselves focused on keeping
those same individuals out.
A whole array of other factors strengthens Europe’s reluctance to enter such conflicts
in the future. The EU is saddled by debt (with an average debt-to-GDP ratio of 88
percent) and faces declining birth rates and graying populations, forcing governments
to devote funds to caring for their retirees rather than modernizing armies. Further,
growing political discord at home—including a rise of far-right eurosceptic political
parties—makes European leaders even more reluctant to join costly international
military endeavors. Even new threats, such as ISIS or an armed separatist rebellion in
eastern Ukraine, are likely to pale in comparison with Europe’s other problems.
A SPENT FORCE
For that reason, the United States ought to reevaluate its future expectations of
European military contributions, especially to out-of-area missions, and begin planning
accordingly. With time, European states will become even less forthcoming with their
military support. Washington’s European allies simply lack the capability to contribute
in a meaningful way, even in response to worthy military missions or security
challenges on their doorstep. Washington should thus focus on enlisting allies that are
not only willing to join a coalition but capable of contributing resources and personnel
to it.
Finally, the war on ISIS underscores Washington’s unique global position of leadership
when it comes to defending the West. Its allies count on it to project power globally and
even to come to their aid when they cannot defend themselves. For all its budget woes,
political gridlock, and desire to pivot away from the world’s problems, the United States
will continue to find itself doing the heavy lifting—whether combating ISIS or deterring
a recidivist Russia—for the foreseeable future. Simply put, there is no one else.
RAPHAEL COHEN and GABRIEL SCHEINMANN are defense analysts in Washington, D.C.
Hammer and Anvil
How to Defeat ISIS
At the top of U.S. Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter’s agenda for 2015 is stopping the
Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS). Many critics assert that the current policy of
limited air strikes is insufficient to defeat or seriously weaken ISIS and have offered
radical alternatives. However, these “cures” are far worse than the disease. The best
plan is to aggressively move forward within the broad parameters of the current
strategy, building on its successes and vastly diminishing ISIS’ power and influence by
the time U.S. President Barack Obama leaves office in two years.
GREAT EXPECTATIONS
There are two prominent (and nearly polar opposite) alternatives to current policy. At
one extreme, CFR Senior Fellow Max Boot calls for the deployment of up to 30,000 U.S.
ground combat troops, a U.S.-enforced no-fly zone, and incentives to enlist Turkey as an
active military partner in the fight—all in order to push the Kurds, the Shia-dominated
Iraqi security forces, and Sunnis to work together to roll back ISIS from its strongholds
in Iraq and Syria. At the other extreme, retired Air Force Lieutenant General David
Deptula argues that a vastly expanded air campaign against ISIS’ leadership and
economic and military centers of gravity can so weaken the group that a broad Sunni
resistance will quickly rise up, making any U.S. Special Forces on the ground
unnecessary.
These proposals are as unrealistic as they are ambitious. No doubt, Washington would
love to find a silver bullet to quickly defeat ISIS in Syria and Iraq, but neither of the
proposals is likely to work as advertised. There are over 20 million Sunnis in Syria and
Iraq, a large fraction of which are now cooperating (passively or actively) with ISIS and
would fight hard to avoid Kurdish and Shia domination, much less American control.
Meanwhile, sending in U.S. ground forces might help win bits of territory along the
current perimeter of ISIS-held territory, but it is unlikely to weaken the group in the
heart of the Sunni-majority areas. Even worse, marshalling a coalition of multiple
enemies of the Sunnis could well deepen the local Sunni population’s cooperation with
ISIS. The air-only option has the opposite flaw. It would possibly hurt ISIS in Raqqah
and other parts of the Sunni heartland, but with little means to stop ISIS from
responding by expanding its area of control elsewhere.
The alternative strategies promise too much. They are vulnerable to failure and risk
overcommitment of U.S. forces without reasonable prospects of major strategic
benefits. Worse, if any of the proposals’ intermediate steps fail to come to fruition, the
United States will be left holding the bag, with no option other than committing more
and more ground troops to a messier and messier conflict in Syria and Iraq.
FIGHT SMART
A plan to reclaim territory currently held by ISIS in Iraq that has more limited short-
term objectives would be less vulnerable to failure. There is a fundamental strategic
asymmetry between the situations in Syria and Iraq. In the short term—the next two
years—Syria is likely to remain intractable. Whatever local ally works with the United
States must fight a two-front war, confronting Syrian leader Bashar al-Assad and ISIS
simultaneously—a task so daunting that it is hardly surprising that the Free Syrian
Army has failed at it. In Iraq, by contrast, there are real possibilities for success.
Indeed, success in Iraq can serve as a basis for achieving significantly more in Syria in
the future.
Since early August, when the air campaign began, there have been over 1,200 U.S. air
strikes against a variety of targets carried out by all manner of manned aircraft and
drones. How do we know if the air campaign has been effective? Analysts and the
administration have made conflicting claims. Here, more precision about the meaning
of effectiveness is warranted.
There are two bases for assessing the effectiveness of air campaigns. The first is
tactical: Have strikes succeeded in destroying ISIS fighters and materiel? The second is
strategic: Have they contributed to thwarting ISIS’ goals in the region?
Few disagree that air strikes have been effective at the tactical level. Coalition planes
have destroyed countless ISIS vehicles, eliminated ISIS cadre, and disrupted oil-
producing infrastructure. All the while, there have been no casualties on the Coalition
side.
A more reasonable standard is whether airpower has been able to blunt ISIS’ ability to
take and hold territory. After all, ISIS has two overriding goals: expansion and
consolidation of control. By this measure, the air campaign has achieved important
success in blunting ISIS’ offensive strategy of expanding its perimeter but has failed to
counter ISIS’ defensive strategy of consolidating Sunni-majority areas.
TACTICAL TRIUMPH
In June and July, ISIS achieved stunning victories when it overran important Sunni-
majority areas, particularly Mosul, Iraq’s second largest city. At this point, ISIS
threatened to rapidly expand its areas of control into the Kurdish areas of northeastern
Iraq and into the Shia areas in and around Baghdad as it moved toward Irbil, the Mosul
Dam, Sinjar, and south of Baghdad. Given the recent loss of Mosul and the collapse of
the Iraqi Security Forces in that city, there was reason to worry that, without
international intervention, ISIS would win more territory.
The U.S. air campaign began in August and quickly halted ISIS’ expansion beyond the
Sunni majority areas. Air power was a valuable tool in limiting ISIS’ potential expansion
for three reasons. First, it could flexibly shift to the defense of various areas, depending
on the degree of effort ISIS chose to exert against them. Second, U.S. airpower is
especially effective at destroying clustered and massed enemy military units, and so
limited the quantity of forces that ISIS could bring to bear in any one battle. Third, U.S.
airpower could work in close conjunction with local ground forces, both bolstering their
morale and serving as a force multiplier in specific ground encounters.
Put differently, the U.S. air campaign succeeded in blunting ISIS’ drive toward Kurdish
and Shia territory by using a strategy called “hammer and anvil.” The strategy put ISIS
in a catch-22: It could either choose to concentrate its forces to achieve local
superiority over opposing ground troops and then be decimated by the United States’
airpower “hammer”; or it could avoid airstrikes by dispersing its forces into small units
and so be vulnerable to defeat by the opposing ground force “anvil.” Either way, ISIS
loses.
STRATEGIC STALEMATE
The current air campaign has failed, however, to prevent ISIS’ consolidation of control
over the Sunni areas in Iraq and Syria. Since mid-summer, ISIS has made territorial
gains, most notably in Hit, Ramadi, Raqqah, and other areas deep inside the Sunni
heartland. In response, there have been airstrikes against ISIS’ command-and-control
structures and its revenue generating oil operations, strikes limited mainly by available
intelligence. However, these strikes against leadership and economic targets have
made little difference, and hitting them again would not change the situation.
Airstrikes against ISIS leaders and the group’s economic base are unlikely to seriously
weaken the group. To be sure, these “decapitation” tactics may, over time, kill leaders
and destroy economically valuable assets—losses that could disrupt the group’s
operations. However, without additional measures to exploit this disruption when it
occurs, the group can simply select new leaders and generate more resources, making
the overall strategic impact of decapitation minimal. Since 2006, the United States has
killed the past three leaders of ISIS and its forerunners, and each time, a new leader
emerged with little trouble.
HOW TO WIN
Defeating ISIS requires a new strategy for retaking Sunni territory. The strategy should
incrementally build on the current hammer-and-anvil approach that has successfully
blunted ISIS’ expansion into Kurdish and Shia areas. The conditions are ripest for a
Sunni anvil in Nineveh and Anbar provinces in Iraq, so these areas should be the focus
of a new plan with four components.
The first objective should be to maintain the gains that the United States has already
made. Accordingly, the United States should continue using airstrikes in Iraq and Syria
to prevent ISIS from expanding territory under its control, especially at the expense of
local allies. The air campaign has proved successful in halting ISIS’ advances toward
the Kurdish capital of Erbil and the Shia areas around Baghdad. The United States
should deploy Special Forces and combat air controllers to support local allies, but only
a very small number (fewer than 100) and only at the perimeter to minimize the risk of
U.S. soldiers falling into ISIS’ hands.
Second, the United States should secure a power-sharing agreement between the Iraqi
government and Sunni tribes that allows greater autonomy for Sunni provinces—like
that granted to the Iraqi Kurds. Oppression of the Sunnis by the Shia-dominated Iraqi
government was a core reason mobilizing Sunni support for ISIS in the first place.
Eliminating Sunni fears that a post-ISIS Iraq would simply replace domination by ISIS
with a return to Shia domination will be key. In addition to political autonomy, Sunni
control over the local police and security forces would be an important component of
such a deal.
Third, the United States should expand the use of air power to limit ISIS’ ability to
move large forces freely between Syria and Iraq. Air power cannot completely seal the
border: ISIS will still be able to move some forces across it. However, as the current air
campaign has demonstrated, such tactics are highly effective against concentrated
forces, and can stop ISIS from moving men and materiel in large concentrations, which
significantly limits ISIS’ ability to reinforce positions in Iraq (just as pressure on those
positions mounts). This will provide a credible security guarantee to Iraqi Sunnis that
ISIS’ power over them is limited.
Fourth, it will be necessary to roll back ISIS in key Sunni areas. Together, the first
three steps will weaken ISIS’ control in Iraq. Guaranteeing Sunni political and security
autonomy while containing ISIS expansion and mobility will make Sunnis more likely to
resist ISIS. Meanwhile, strengthening local allies with minimal U.S. presence will not
only improve the effectiveness of the air campaign but also empower the only force with
a real incentive to roll back and defeat ISIS in combat. The strategy would strongly
emulate the 2001 Afghan campaign, where local allies together with only 50 U.S.
Special Forces managed to defeat the militarily superior and entrenched Afghan
Taliban.
The crucial next step is to identify pockets of Sunni resistance to ISIS and support
them. There are two obvious places to start. One is the Nineveh province police force,
which numbered roughly 24,000 when ISIS took control of much of the province in June
but was instantly cut off from all funds and weapons by the distrustful Shia-dominated
government in Baghdad. The other is the Sunni tribes that have opposed ISIS in Anbar,
such as the Jaghaifi, near Haditha, and Albu Nimr, near Hit, hundreds of whom were
brutally killed by ISIS in an effort to suppress their opposition during the recent
conquest. If supported by U.S. airpower and Special Forces, both groups have the self-
interest and potential numbers to create the beginnings of a serious ground challenge
to ISIS controlled territory in Anbar. Given that 1,500 U.S. Special Forces typically
expect to train 15,000 local forces per year, even the current contingent of 3,000
advisers can expect significant results if focused on supporting a Sunni-based
opposition force.
To maximize the prospects of successfully rolling back ISIS from Sunni areas in Iraq,
the United States should resist getting drawn more deeply into Syria. For the next two
years, the best way to weaken ISIS in Syria is indirectly. Specifically, reversing ISIS’
momentum in Iraq will also likely weaken the group in Syria at least compared to other
Sunni groups, changing its trajectory from a rising dominant force to one of numerous
fragmented factions. As a result, pursuing this pragmatic plan is not only the best way
to achieve real success against ISIS in Iraq; it is also the best approach to make Syria
more manageable for the next administration.
The pragmatic plan to defeat ISIS is hardly perfect. It separates Syria from Iraq and so
pushes off numerous important questions (such as Assad’s political future and the fate
of Raqqah, ISIS’ putative capital). It requires brokering robust political and security
autonomy for Sunnis that the Shia-dominated government in Baghdad would be loath to
accept. However, by marshalling the United States’ considerable strategic assets with
local allies with a genuine interest in opposing ISIS control of territory, this plan has
realistic prospects for meaningful and sustained success over the next two years.
ROBERT A. PAPE is the author of Bombing to Win: Air Power and Coercion in War and a Professor at the University
of Chicago, where he heads the Chicago Project on Security and Terrorism. KEVEN RUBY is Research Director of
CPOST. VINCENT BAUER is Research Analyst at CPOST.
ISIS Is Not a Terrorist Group
Why Counterterrorism Won’t Stop the Latest Jihadist
Threat
After 9/11, many within the U.S. national security establishment worried that, following
decades of preparation for confronting conventional enemies, Washington was unready
for the challenge posed by an unconventional adversary such as al Qaeda. So over the
next decade, the United States built an elaborate bureaucratic structure to fight the
jihadist organization, adapting its military and its intelligence and law enforcement
agencies to the tasks of counterterrorism and counterinsurgency.
Now, however, a different group, the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), which
also calls itself the Islamic State, has supplanted al Qaeda as the jihadist threat of
greatest concern. ISIS’ ideology, rhetoric, and long-term goals are similar to al Qaeda’s,
and the two groups were once formally allied. So many observers assume that the
current challenge is simply to refocus Washington’s now-formidable counterterrorism
apparatus on a new target.
But ISIS is not al Qaeda. It is not an outgrowth or a part of the older radical Islamist
organization, nor does it represent the next phase in its evolution. Although al Qaeda
remains dangerous—especially its affiliates in North Africa and Yemen—ISIS is its
successor. ISIS represents the post–al Qaeda jihadist threat.
In a nationally televised speech last September explaining his plan to “degrade and
ultimately destroy” ISIS, U.S. President Barack Obama drew a straight line between the
group and al Qaeda and claimed that ISIS is “a terrorist organization, pure and simple.”
This was mistaken; ISIS hardly fits that description, and indeed, although it uses
terrorism as a tactic, it is not really a terrorist organization at all. Terrorist networks,
such as al Qaeda, generally have only dozens or hundreds of members, attack civilians,
do not hold territory, and cannot directly confront military forces. ISIS, on the other
hand, boasts some 30,000 fighters, holds territory in both Iraq and Syria, maintains
extensive military capabilities, controls lines of communication, commands
infrastructure, funds itself, and engages in sophisticated military operations. If ISIS is
purely and simply anything, it is a pseudo-state led by a conventional army. And that is
why the counterterrorism and counterinsurgency strategies that greatly diminished the
threat from al Qaeda will not work against ISIS.
Washington has been slow to adapt its policies in Iraq and Syria to the true nature of
the threat from ISIS. In Syria, U.S. counterterrorism has mostly prioritized the bombing
of al Qaeda affiliates, which has given an edge to ISIS and has also provided the Assad
regime with the opportunity to crush U.S.-allied moderate Syrian rebels. In Iraq,
Washington continues to rely on a form of counterinsurgency, depending on the central
government in Baghdad to regain its lost legitimacy, unite the country, and build
indigenous forces to defeat ISIS. These approaches were developed to meet a different
threat, and they have been overtaken by events. What’s needed now is a strategy of
“offensive containment”: a combination of limited military tactics and a broad
diplomatic strategy to halt ISIS’ expansion, isolate the group, and degrade its
capabilities.
DIFFERENT STROKES
The differences between al Qaeda and ISIS are partly rooted in their histories. Al Qaeda
came into being in the aftermath of the 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Its leaders’
worldviews and strategic thinking were shaped by the ten-year war against Soviet
occupation, when thousands of Muslim militants, including Osama bin Laden,
converged on the country. As the organization coalesced, it took the form of a global
network focused on carrying out spectacular attacks against Western or Western-allied
targets, with the goal of rallying Muslims to join a global confrontation with secular
powers near and far.
ISIS came into being thanks to the 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq. In its earliest incarnation,
it was just one of a number of Sunni extremist groups fighting U.S. forces and attacking
Shiite civilians in an attempt to foment a sectarian civil war. At that time, it was called
al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI), and its leader, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, had pledged allegiance to
bin Laden. Zarqawi was killed by a U.S. air strike in 2006, and soon after, AQI was
nearly wiped out when Sunni tribes decided to partner with the Americans to confront
the jihadists. But the defeat was temporary; AQI renewed itself inside U.S.-run prisons
in Iraq, where insurgents and terrorist operatives connected and formed networks—and
where the group’s current chief and self-proclaimed caliph, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, first
distinguished himself as a leader.
In 2011, as a revolt against the Assad regime in Syria expanded into a full-blown civil
war, the group took advantage of the chaos, seizing territory in Syria’s northeast,
establishing a base of operations, and rebranding itself as ISIS. In Iraq, the group
continued to capitalize on the weakness of the central state and to exploit the country’s
sectarian strife, which intensified after U.S. combat forces withdrew. With the
Americans gone, Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki pursued a hard-line pro-Shiite
agenda, further alienating Sunni Arabs throughout the country. ISIS now counts among
its members Iraqi Sunni tribal leaders, former anti-U.S. insurgents, and even secular
former Iraqi military officers who seek to regain the power and security they enjoyed
during the Saddam Hussein era.
The group’s territorial conquest in Iraq came as a shock. When ISIS captured Fallujah
and Ramadi in January 2014, most analysts predicted that the U.S.-trained Iraqi
security forces would contain the threat. But in June, amid mass desertions from the
Iraqi army, ISIS moved toward Baghdad, capturing Mosul, Tikrit, al-Qaim, and
numerous other Iraqi towns. By the end of the month, ISIS had renamed itself the
Islamic State and had proclaimed the territory under its control to be a new caliphate.
Meanwhile, according to U.S. intelligence estimates, some 15,000 foreign fighters from
80 countries flocked to the region to join ISIS, at the rate of around 1,000 per month.
Although most of these recruits came from Muslim-majority countries, such as Tunisia
and Saudi Arabia, some also hailed from Australia, China, Russia, and western
European countries. ISIS has even managed to attract some American teenagers, boys
and girls alike, from ordinary middle-class homes in Denver, Minneapolis, and the
suburbs of Chicago.
As ISIS has grown, its goals and intentions have become clearer. Al Qaeda conceived of
itself as the vanguard of a global insurgency mobilizing Muslim communities against
secular rule. ISIS, in contrast, seeks to control territory and create a “pure” Sunni
Islamist state governed by a brutal interpretation of sharia; to immediately obliterate
the political borders of the Middle East that were created by Western powers in the
twentieth century; and to position itself as the sole political, religious, and military
authority over all of the world’s Muslims.
In the post-9/11 era, the United States has built up a trillion-dollar infrastructure of
intelligence, law enforcement, and military operations aimed at al Qaeda and its
affiliates. According to a 2010 investigation by The Washington Post, some 263 U.S.
government organizations were created or reorganized in response to the 9/11 attacks,
including the Department of Homeland Security, the National Counterterrorism Center,
and the Transportation Security Administration. Each year, U.S. intelligence agencies
produce some 50,000 reports on terrorism. Fifty-one U.S. federal organizations and
military commands track the flow of money to and from terrorist networks. This
structure has helped make terrorist attacks on U.S. soil exceedingly rare. In that sense,
the system has worked. But it is not well suited for dealing with ISIS, which presents a
different sort of challenge.
Consider first the tremendous U.S. military and intelligence campaign to capture or kill
al Qaeda’s core leadership through drone strikes and Special Forces raids. Some 75
percent of the leaders of the core al Qaeda group have been killed by raids and armed
drones, a technology well suited to the task of going after targets hiding in rural areas,
where the risk of accidentally killing civilians is lower.
Such tactics, however, don’t hold much promise for combating ISIS. The group’s
fighters and leaders cluster in urban areas, where they are well integrated into civilian
populations and usually surrounded by buildings, making drone strikes and raids much
harder to carry out. And simply killing ISIS’ leaders would not cripple the organization.
They govern a functioning pseudo-state with a complex administrative structure. At the
top of the military command is the emirate, which consists of Baghdadi and two
deputies, both of whom formerly served as generals in the Saddam-era Iraqi army: Abu
Ali al-Anbari, who controls ISIS’ operations in Syria, and Abu Muslim al-Turkmani, who
controls operations in Iraq. ISIS’ civilian bureaucracy is supervised by 12
administrators who govern territories in Iraq and Syria, overseeing councils that handle
matters such as finances, media, and religious affairs. Although it is hardly the model
government depicted in ISIS’ propaganda videos, this pseudo-state would carry on quite
ably without Baghdadi or his closest lieutenants.
ISIS also poses a daunting challenge to traditional U.S. counterterrorism tactics that
take aim at jihadist financing, propaganda, and recruitment. Cutting off al Qaeda’s
funding has been one of U.S. counterterrorism’s most impressive success stories. Soon
after the 9/11 attacks, the FBI and the CIA began to coordinate closely on financial
intelligence, and they were soon joined by the Department of Defense. FBI agents
embedded with U.S. military units during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and debriefed
suspected terrorists detained at the U.S. facility at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba. In 2004, the
U.S. Treasury Department established the Office of Terrorism and Financial
Intelligence, which has cut deeply into al Qaeda’s ability to profit from money
laundering and receive funds under the cover of charitable giving. A global network for
countering terrorist financing has also emerged, backed by the UN, the EU, and
hundreds of cooperating governments. The result has been a serious squeeze on al
Qaeda’s financing; by 2011, the Treasury Department reported that al Qaeda was
“struggling to secure steady financing to plan and execute terrorist attacks.”
But such tools contribute little to the fight against ISIS, because ISIS does not need
outside funding. Holding territory has allowed the group to build a self-sustaining
financial model unthinkable for most terrorist groups. Beginning in 2012, ISIS gradually
took over key oil assets in eastern Syria; it now controls an estimated 60 percent of the
country’s oil production capacity. Meanwhile, during its push into Iraq last summer,
ISIS also seized seven oil-producing operations in that country. The group manages to
sell some of this oil on the black market in Iraq and Syria—including, according to some
reports, to the Assad regime itself. ISIS also smuggles oil out of Iraq and Syria into
Jordan and Turkey, where it finds plenty of buyers happy to pay below-market prices for
illicit crude. All told, ISIS’ revenue from oil is estimated to be between $1 million and
$3 million per day.
And oil is only one element in the group’s financial portfolio. Last June, when ISIS
seized control of the northern Iraqi city of Mosul, it looted the provincial central bank
and other smaller banks and plundered antiquities to sell on the black market. It steals
jewelry, cars, machinery, and livestock from conquered residents. The group also
controls major transportation arteries in western Iraq, allowing it to tax the movement
of goods and charge tolls. It even earns revenue from cotton and wheat grown in
Raqqa, the breadbasket of Syria.
Of course, like terrorist groups, ISIS also takes hostages, demanding tens of millions of
dollars in ransom payments. But more important to the group’s finances is a wide-
ranging extortion racket that targets owners and producers in ISIS territory, taxing
everything from small family farms to large enterprises such as cell-phone service
providers, water delivery companies, and electric utilities. The enterprise is so complex
that the U.S. Treasury has declined to estimate ISIS’ total assets and revenues, but ISIS
is clearly a highly diversified enterprise whose wealth dwarfs that of any terrorist
organization. And there is little evidence that Washington has succeeded in reducing
the group’s coffers.
For similar reasons, it has proved difficult for the United States and its partners to
combat the recruitment efforts that have attracted so many young Muslims to ISIS’
ranks. The core al Qaeda group attracted followers with religious arguments and a
pseudo-scholarly message of altruism for the sake of the ummah, the global Muslim
community. Bin Laden and his longtime second-in-command and successor, Ayman al-
Zawahiri, carefully constructed an image of religious legitimacy and piety. In their
propaganda videos, the men appeared as ascetic warriors, sitting on the ground in
caves, studying in libraries, or taking refuge in remote camps. Although some of al
Qaeda’s affiliates have better recruiting pitches, the core group cast the establishment
of a caliphate as a long-term, almost utopian goal: educating and mobilizing the ummah
came first. In al Qaeda, there is no place for alcohol or women. In this sense, al Qaeda’s
image is deeply unsexy; indeed, for the young al Qaeda recruit, sex itself comes only
after marriage—or martyrdom.
Even for the angriest young Muslim man, this might be a bit of a hard sell. Al Qaeda’s
leaders’ attempts to depict themselves as moral—even moralistic—figures have limited
their appeal. Successful deradicalization programs in places such as Indonesia and
Singapore have zeroed in on the mismatch between what al Qaeda offers and what most
young people are really interested in, encouraging militants to reintegrate into society,
where their more prosaic hopes and desires might be fulfilled more readily.
ISIS, in contrast, offers a very different message for young men, and sometimes women.
The group attracts followers yearning for not only religious righteousness but also
adventure, personal power, and a sense of self and community. And, of course, some
people just want to kill—and ISIS welcomes them, too. The group’s brutal violence
attracts attention, demonstrates dominance, and draws people to the action.
ISIS operates in urban settings and offers recruits immediate opportunities to fight. It
advertises by distributing exhilarating podcasts produced by individual fighters on the
frontlines. The group also procures sexual partners for its male recruits; some of these
women volunteer for this role, but most of them are coerced or even enslaved. The
group barely bothers to justify this behavior in religious terms; its sales pitch is
conquest in all its forms, including the sexual kind. And it has already established a self-
styled caliphate, with Baghdadi as the caliph, thus making present (if only in a limited
way, for now) what al Qaeda generally held out as something more akin to a utopian
future.
In short, ISIS offers short-term, primitive gratification. It does not radicalize people in
ways that can be countered by appeals to logic. Teenagers are attracted to the group
without even understanding what it is, and older fighters just want to be associated
with ISIS’ success. Compared with fighting al Qaeda’s relatively austere message,
Washington has found it much harder to counter ISIS’ more visceral appeal, perhaps for
a very simple reason: a desire for power, agency, and instant results also pervades
American culture.
2015 ≠ 2006
Counterterrorism wasn’t the only element of national security practice that Washington
rediscovered and reinvigorated after 9/11; counterinsurgency also enjoyed a
renaissance. As chaos erupted in Iraq in the aftermath of the U.S. invasion and
occupation of 2003, the U.S. military grudgingly starting thinking about
counterinsurgency, a subject that had fallen out of favor in the national security
establishment after the Vietnam War. The most successful application of U.S.
counterinsurgency doctrine was the 2007 “surge” in Iraq, overseen by General David
Petraeus. In 2006, as violence peaked in Sunni-dominated Anbar Province, U.S. officials
concluded that the United States was losing the war. In response, President George W.
Bush decided to send an additional 20,000 U.S. troops to Iraq. General John Allen, then
serving as deputy commander of the multinational forces in Anbar, cultivated
relationships with local Sunni tribes and nurtured the so-called Sunni Awakening, in
which some 40 Sunni tribes or subtribes essentially switched sides and decided to fight
with the newly augmented U.S. forces against AQI. By the summer of 2008, the number
of insurgent attacks had fallen by more than 80 percent.
Looking at the extent of ISIS’ recent gains in Sunni areas of Iraq, which have undone
much of the progress made in the surge, some have argued that Washington should
respond with a second application of the Iraq war’s counterinsurgency strategy. And
the White House seems at least partly persuaded by this line of thinking: last year,
Obama asked Allen to act as a special envoy for building an anti-ISIS coalition in the
region. There is a certain logic to this approach, since ISIS draws support from many of
the same insurgent groups that the surge and the Sunni Awakening
neutralized—groups that have reemerged as threats thanks to the vacuum created by
the withdrawal of U.S. forces in 2011 and Maliki’s sectarian rule in Baghdad.
But vast differences exist between the situation today and the one that Washington
faced in 2006, and the logic of U.S. counterinsurgency does not suit the struggle
against ISIS. The United States cannot win the hearts and minds of Iraq’s Sunni Arabs,
because the Maliki government has already lost them. The Shiite-dominated Iraqi
government has so badly undercut its own political legitimacy that it might be
impossible to restore it. Moreover, the United States no longer occupies Iraq.
Washington can send in more troops, but it cannot lend legitimacy to a government it
no longer controls. ISIS is less an insurgent group fighting against an established
government than one party in a conventional civil war between a breakaway territory
and a weak central state.
DIVIDE AND CONQUER?
The United States has relied on counterinsurgency strategy not only to reverse Iraq’s
slide into state failure but also to serve as a model for how to combat the wider jihadist
movement. Al Qaeda expanded by persuading Muslim militant groups all over the world
to turn their more narrowly targeted nationalist campaigns into nodes in al Qaeda’s
global jihad—and, sometimes, to convert themselves into al Qaeda affiliates. But there
was little commonality in the visions pursued by Chechen, Filipino, Indonesian,
Kashmiri, Palestinian, and Uighur militants, all of whom bin Laden tried to draw into al
Qaeda’s tent, and al Qaeda often had trouble fully reconciling its own goals with the
interests of its far-flung affiliates.
That created a vulnerability, and the United States and its allies sought to exploit it.
Governments in Indonesia and the Philippines won dramatic victories against al Qaeda
affiliates in their countries by combining counterterrorism operations with relationship
building in local communities, instituting deradicalization programs, providing religious
training in prisons, using rehabilitated former terrorist operatives as government
spokespeople, and sometimes negotiating over local grievances.
Some observers have called for Washington to apply the same strategy to ISIS by
attempting to expose the fault lines between the group’s secular former Iraqi army
officers, Sunni tribal leaders, and Sunni resistance fighters, on the one hand, and its
veteran jihadists, on the other. But it’s too late for that approach to work. ISIS is now
led by well-trained, capable former Iraqi military leaders who know U.S. techniques and
habits because Washington helped train them. And after routing Iraqi army units and
taking their U.S.-supplied equipment, ISIS is now armed with American tanks, artillery,
armored Humvees, and mine-resistant vehicles.
Perhaps ISIS’ harsh religious fanaticism will eventually prove too much for their secular
former Baathist allies. But for now, the Saddam-era officers are far from reluctant
warriors for ISIS: rather, they are leading the charge. In their hands, ISIS has
developed a sophisticated light-infantry army, brandishing American weapons.
ISIS is not merely an American problem. The wars in Iraq and Syria involve not only
regional players but also major global actors, such as Russia, Turkey, Iran, Saudi
Arabia, and other Gulf states. Washington must stop behaving as if it can fix the
region’s problems with military force and instead resurrect its role as a diplomatic
superpower.
Given that political posturing over U.S. foreign policy will only intensify as the 2016
U.S. presidential election approaches, the White House would likely face numerous
attacks on a containment approach that would satisfy neither the hawkish nor the anti-
interventionist camp within the U.S. national security establishment. In the face of such
criticism, the United States must stay committed to fighting ISIS over the long term in a
manner that matches ends with means, calibrating and improving U.S. efforts to
contain the group by moving past outmoded forms of counterterrorism and
counterinsurgency while also resisting pressure to cross the threshold into full-fledged
war. Over time, the successful containment of ISIS might open up better policy options.
But for the foreseeable future, containment is the best policy that the United States can
pursue.
Audrey Kurth Cronin is Distinguished Professor and Director of the International Security Program at George
Mason University and the author of How Terrorism Ends: Understanding the Decline and Demise of
Terrorist Campaigns. Follow her on Twitter @akcronin.
ISIS on the Run
The Terrorist Group Struggles to Hold On
Members of the Kurdish security forces in Diyala province, November 23, 2014.
COURTESY REUTERS
The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) is starting to show some wear and tear.
True, it pulled off the gruesome execution of Jordanian pilot Moaz al-Kasasbeh; true, it
has attracted jihadists from across the world; and true, it still holds swaths of Iraq and
Syria. But cracks are appearing in the self-styled Caliphate.
One reason is that, starting in the late summer, the U.S. intervention in Iraq helped
stall the ISIS advance. Since then, troops have been able to go on the offensive and
start expelling the terrorist group from the territory it holds; it has already lost Kobani,
the north Syrian border town where much of the violence is centered, and has also
suffered significant defeats in Bajyi, Jurf al-Sakhar, Diyala, and the Mosul Dam. In the
grand scheme of things, this does not translate into much: Of the 55,000 square
kilometres of territory ISIS controls, it has lost only 700—around one percent. But at
least the momentum has been checked.
Now, a planned spring offensive, a joint U.S.-Iraqi effort to retake the Sunni capital of
Mosul, could be a watershed moment. Iraqi Security Forces, Kurdish Peshmerga troops,
and Sunni tribes—backed by U.S. air support and military advisers—will look to end
ISIS’ reign in the north and west Iraq, restoring government leadership in local towns
and cities.
There are risks in this strategy. ISIS finds it easiest to take over Sunni areas where
there is a looming threat of Shia or Pershmerga involvement. To retake Mosul, then, the
coalition will have to avoid sending Peshmerga and Shia militias into the fray. The
further these forces penetrate the Sunni enclave of Mosul, the likelier they are to push
Sunnis into armed resistance.
Absent any Shia or Pershmerga threat to exploit, ISIS quickly loses tactical alliances,
such as the Ansar al-Sunna, Army of the Men of the Naqshbandiyah Order (JRTN), and
the 1920 Revolutionary Brigades. And when it fights alone, it loses. For example, ISIS
had no allies to help it secure Kobani and the Mosul Dam. In both cases, a determined
Iraqi ground force supported by U.S. weaponry and airstrikes defeated ISIS, a blow to
its status as a formidable terrorist army.
These are not the only setbacks that ISIS has suffered recently. According to group
spokespeople and media reports, there have been at least two different coup attempts
against the ISIS leadership. Back in November, ISIS announced that it had thwarted a
plot by a cell of Azerbaijanis who were plotting to kill ISIS members and encourage
others to join an anti-ISIS faction. In recent days, details of a coup attempt against ISIS
leadership in eastern Syria, led by Abu Ayyub al-Ansari, ISIS’ governor in Raqqa, have
emerged. Ansari and dozens of others were killed in response, and some of Ansari’s
fellow conspirators are thought to have fled Raqqa.
Meanwhile, foreign fighters, many of whom signed on to fight the Bashar al-Assad
regime in Syria, have been pushed into conflict against other armed factions in Syria.
Others are given menial tasks such as cleaning weapons and transporting dead bodies
from the front line. Those who refuse their duties risk being labelled apostates and
killed; and those who try to escape are equally likely to die. According to the Syrian
Observatory for Human Rights, over 100 people who wished to leave the ISIS were
executed between October and December 2014. This suggests that ISIS is increasingly
turning on itself.
Something else that is slowing ISIS down: the group has been forced to govern the land
that it currently holds. And it isn’t going well. Wheat production has collapsed and
electricity is sporadic. Hospital staff has fled and pharmaceutical supplies are in short
supply. Water service was better under Assad and Iraq’s former Prime Minister Nouri
al-Maliki. ISIS may hold territory and enforce law and order, but it is clearly not
governing.
Under these circumstances, the execution of Kasasbeh was a strategic error. It has—for
now, at least—outraged Jordan. The last time the country suffered such a high-profile
attack was in November 2005, when al Qaeda in Iraq killed 60 people in three
coordinated attacks against hotels in Amman. This act not only cost the group a large
amount of support across the region, it also led Jordan to ramp up its intelligence
gathering. Within months, al Qaeda in Iraq’s Jordanian leader, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi,
was killed in a mission to which Jordanian intelligence had made a key contribution. If
Jordan does the same this time, it will come at a time when ISIS can barely afford it.
On the other hand, the gains that Iraq and the West have made against ISIS are
reversible if there is insufficient international will to press them home. It is critical that
the United States stays engaged militarily. And partner nations, such as the United
Kingdom, must increase support in order to share this burden.
It is also vital to recognize that, ultimately, only the Sunnis can clear their areas of ISIS’
presence. One of the main reasons Iraqi security forces fled Mosul in June 2014 was
that they had no political and economic ties there, and so were not interested in
fighting and dying for it. The Sunnis are, provided that ISIS cannot convincingly argue
that it is the sole protector against the Shia.
And that is why it is counterproductive for the United States to work alongside Iranian-
backed militias against ISIS. The West cannot back Sunnis into a corner by offering
them the choice of conflict with Shia militias—with the sectarian bloodletting that
would surely follow—or an alliance with ISIS. A comprehensive U.S.-led strategy must
involve partnering with Sunnis in fighting ISIS and reassuring Sunnis that there will be
no Shia death squads after ISIS’ defeat.
ISIS is on the run, but current U.S. policy isn’t taking full advantage of that. Now is the
time. If the West addresses deficiencies in its own strategy, weaknesses in ISIS’ own
framework will cause the group’s downfall.
MICHAEL PREGENT is Adjunct Lecturer at the College of International Security Affairs at National Defense
University. ROBIN SIMCOX is a Research Fellow at the Henry Jackson Society.
Ready for War With ISIS?
Foreign Affairs' Brain Trust Weighs In
A checkpoint in east Mosul, one day after radical Sunni Muslim insurgents seized control of the city,
June 11, 2014.
COURTESY REUTERS
We at Foreign Affairs have recently published a number of articles on how the United
States should respond to the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham. Those articles sparked a
heated debate, so we decided to ask a broader pool of experts to state whether they
agree or disagree with the following statement and to rate their confidence level about
that answer.
The United States should significantly step up its military campaign against
ISIS in Iraq and Syria.
Full Responses
ANDREW KREPINEVICH is
President of the Center for
Strategic and Budgetary
Assessments.
Strongly 8
Disagree
BARAK MENDELSOHN is an
Associate Professor of political
science at Haverford College
and a Research Fellow at
Harvard Kennedy School’s
Belfer Center for Science and
International Affairs.
Disagree 7 I disagree. Although U.S. airstrikes have stopped
advances by ISIS, they alone will not defeat the
group, even if they are significantly intensified. In
Iraq, U.S. military intervention did not produce the
desired outcome, and it resulted in unintended
consequences. In fact, ISIS is a byproduct of the U.S.
military occupation. It has now metastasized and is
enmeshed in the mini cold war between Iran and
MOHSEN MILANI is Professor Saudi Arabia and in Turkey’s determination to
of Politics and the Executive reassert its regional role. At this time, when the
Director of the Center for Middle East is experiencing a tumultuous
Strategic and Diplomatic Studies transformation, Washington must develop a regional
at the University of South strategy. The smart use of military force must be one
Florida. component of this strategy, but cutting off the flow of
money and weapons to terrorists in Syria and Iraq
and undermining the ideological appeal of ISIS must
be the other components. The strategy should also
include rethinking of the U.S. approach toward Syria
and Iran. The dilemma in Syria is that the
organizations the West supports have been
ineffective against Assad, whereas those the West
does not trust, mainly ISIS and Al Nusra, have been
effective. As for Iran, it has considerable experience
fighting against ISIS and enjoys better relations with
the Syrian and Iraqi governments than any other
regional power. Iran has also helped the Kurdish
peshmerga fight against ISIS. The United States and
Iran share the common goal of defeating ISIS.
Although there seems to have been an indirect
coordination between Iran and the United States, as
the recent airstrikes inside Iraq by Iranian Phantom
jets indicate, much more bilateral collaboration is
required in the future to defeat ISIS.
Agree 7 The campaign in Iraq and Syria is a Band-Aid. It is
not a long-term solution. It is a necessary Band-Aid,
but the United States still does not have a strategy
for achieving stability and defeating jihadist groups
in the Middle East (or South Asia).
KENNETH M. POLLACK is a
Senior Fellow at the Brookings
Institution and the author of
Unthinkable: Iran, the Bomb,
and American Strategy.
Strongly 8 The only way to quickly step up U.S. participation
Disagree would be to bomb more. I doubt that the current
campaign is having an easy time finding good
targets, and I fear that a more intense campaign
would produce more collateral damage, which would
produce more loyalty to ISIS and more new recruits.
I fear that enhanced military advice, including
providing advice in combat for Iraqi troops, would
BARRY R. POSEN is Ford cause the troops to attack prematurely and that
International Professor of these attacks would not go well. The United States
Political Science and Director of would then be seduced into adding more resources to
the Security Studies Program at avoid the loss of prestige that would come with the
the Massachusetts Institute of setback. I also fear that, even if these offensives
Technology. could take back lost real estate, ISIS would revert to
guerrilla warfare, which predominantly Shia and
Kurdish troops would have a very difficult time
suppressing. Again, pressure would rise for the
United States to take a more direct role. In the latter
two cases, a more direct role would not only increase
direct costs to the United States but also validate the
ISIS narrative. The group might be militarily
weakened in a narrow sense but politically
strengthened. The whole enterprise would be futile.
Of course, this analysis is based on the facts as they
have been presented. These facts might be false, in
which case my analysis could be too pessimistic, or
too optimistic.
Neutral 8 U.S. military operations against ISIS should ideally
complement diplomatic efforts toward a political
settlement in Syria. There may be a role for more air
strikes, intelligence coordination, and U.S. advisers
in the fight against ISIS, but U.S. combat troops and
no-fly/ safe zones would be high-risk options,
especially in the absence of clarity about the U.S.
endgame in Syria. On December 10, the U.S. Senate
ANDREW PARASILITI is Foreign Relations Committee passed, by a vote of
Director of the Center for Global 10–8, a draft authorization for military force which
Risk and Security at the RAND does not authorize U.S. ground combat forces
Corporation. “except as necessary,” meaning for protection and
rescue and other non-combat actions. A CNN/ORC
poll in late-November reports that 55 percent of
Americans oppose U.S. ground forces in Iraq and
Syria. The resolution also requires the Obama
administration to provide a comprehensive strategy
for Iraq and Syria. This strategy should be a
prerequisite to any discussion of U.S. military
escalation. The draft authorization calls for the
United States “to the greatest extent possible act in
concert or cooperation with the security forces of
other countries in the region to counter the grave
threat to regional stability and international security
posed by [ISIS].” Here, the United States could
benefit from stepped up efforts by Turkey and other
U.S. allies to disrupt ISIS’ financial, trade, transit,
and supply networks and from the shared interest of
Iran in battling ISIS.
Disagree 8
ANNE-MARIE SLAUGHTER is
President and CEO of New
America and Bert G. Kerstetter
‘66 University Professor Emerita
of Politics and International
Affairs at Princeton University.
From 2009 to 2011, she served
as Director of Policy Planning
for the United States
Department of State,
Strongly 8 Of course, the rise of ISIS is partly a consequence of
Agree failed U.S. policies in Iraq, but the fact is that only a
robust response from the United States now is likely
to make a significant dent in ISIS’ progress. I wish
this were not the case, but I see no other immediate
solution.