tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca-fr/topics/salafism-12504/articlesSalafism – La Conversation2019-03-25T05:29:38Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1140732019-03-25T05:29:38Z2019-03-25T05:29:38ZWe need to stop conflating Islam with terrorism<p>The Christchurch terrorist attack has shown us that we need to address the threat posed by far-right extremism to our ideals of peaceful social cooperation in a multicultural society. Unfortunately, in the aftermath of the shooting, some of the worst far-right commentary <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-03-18/fraser-anning-reacts-to-egg-christchurch-mosque-terrorism-attack/10910786">has blamed</a> the Christchurch shooting on immigration laws, and Muslim communities themselves. </p>
<p>But these views are based on inaccurate information about Islam and history. </p>
<p>As a New Zealander academic, my work deals with questions related to Islam and multiculturalism. In the past, I have argued both that Wahhabism – the Sunni fundamentalist form of Islam practised in Saudi Arabia – is <a href="https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=11760810">not compatible</a> with liberal democratic values, unlike <a href="https://www.publicdeliberation.net/jpd/vol13/iss1/art6/">some other Islamic schools of thought</a>. </p>
<p>As Muslims in the West come under attack, it is essential to understand and distinguish between these different kinds of Islamic thought and how the West responds to them. While there is a problem at the global level with extreme Sunni militancy, the fact is this is a minority phenomenon within Islam – and one that is more of a threat to Muslims in the Middle East than it is to Western nations.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/right-wing-extremism-has-a-long-history-in-australia-113842">Right-wing extremism has a long history in Australia</a>
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<h2>Islam cannot be reduced to a single idea</h2>
<p>Right-wing commentators often make statements about Islam and Muslims that are factually incorrect. They demonise Muslims and proclaim that Islam is incompatible with Western democratic values. </p>
<p>But Islam cannot be reduced to a single theological framework or simplistic worldview. Complex theological debates have taken place over the centuries about the relationship between faith and reason, and the political role of Islam. This has led to a religion that contains multiple branches and schools of thought.</p>
<p>Critics of Islam often mistakenly conflate Islam with Wahhabism. Wahhabism is an Islamic school of thought that promotes violence towards both non-Wahhabi Muslims and non-Muslims by taking an uncritical, literalist, approach to Islamic scriptures. </p>
<p>While its intellectual roots can be traced back to 13th-14th century theologian Ibn Taymiyyah, it only became a genuine political movement in the mid-18th century. This is when the House of Saud entered a religio-political alliance with Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab. This alliance is still the foundation of the current Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to this day. </p>
<p>If it was not for the West’s continuous support for the contemporary Kingdom of Saudi Arabia for almost a century, Wahhabism might have remained a marginal historical phenomenon within Islam.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/christchurch-attacks-are-a-stark-warning-of-toxic-political-environment-that-allows-hate-to-flourish-113662">Christchurch attacks are a stark warning of toxic political environment that allows hate to flourish</a>
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<h2>Muslims are often victims of Wahhabi extremism</h2>
<p>The next move from these right-wing figures is usually to argue that Wahhabism is the essence of Islam, and that “moderate Muslims” are just not following their own sacred text. They usually proceed by cherry-picking verses from the Koran and historical narrations to prove that Muhammad was a warlord, a paedophile and a terrorist.</p>
<p>This completely ignores the fact that there have been debates for centuries within Islam over the historical context, interpretation, and even accuracy of these cherry-picked parts of the vast corpus of Islamic scriptures. </p>
<p>The rest of the scriptures and Islamic history that promotes compassion, justice, and pluralism are never mentioned. Indeed, the broader Muslim community, in many cases, not only theologically disagree with the Wahhabi interpretation of Islam, but have sometimes been victims of Wahhabi extremism themselves. </p>
<p>Besides being intellectually dishonest, this hostile attitude contributes greatly to anti-Muslim sentiment in the West. </p>
<h2>Right-wing extremism reinforces Islamic extremism</h2>
<p>By conflating Wahhabism and mainstream Islam, the far-right is creating and reinforcing the strength of its own enemy. Alienating and harassing Muslims in the West runs the risk of radicalising some of them. And making the argument that Islam is incompatible with democracy and human rights suggest that the Wahhabi reading of Islam is in fact the correct one. </p>
<p>This reinforces the clash of civilisation thesis that argues that Western and Islamic worldviews are so fundamentally incompatible that they are destined to perpetual conflict.</p>
<p>Historically, right-wing policy makers in some Western nations have reinforced the economic and military power of Wahhabi ideologues by creating alliances with proponents of the doctrine in places such as Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan. Even Israel (usually considered as a bastion of democratic values in the Middle East) is now <a href="https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/20180903-normalising-relations-between-israel-and-saudi-arabia/">cosying up</a> to the Wahhabi kingdom because of their mutual fear of Iran.</p>
<p>Let me also highlight that most of the victims of the Wahhabi ideology were and still are Muslims themselves. From the Wahhabi sacking of Karbala in 1802, to the rise of the Taliban, al Qaeda, and Islamic State, countless innocent, mainly Muslim, lives have been lost to Wahhabism in the Middle East.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/finding-dignity-and-grace-in-the-aftermath-of-the-christchurch-attack-114072">Finding dignity and grace in the aftermath of the Christchurch attack</a>
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<h2>The West must reassess its narrative about Islam</h2>
<p>It’s natural to want to understand the deeper, root causes, of the Christchurch massacre, and the potential role played by Islamic extremism. But the culprit remains the same: those in the West who promote the idea that Islam and liberal democratic values are incompatible. </p>
<p>They demonise Muslim communities by conflating Islam and the Wahhabi ideology that the West has empowered for many years. Yes, there is a problematic extremist element within the Islamic world, but Western actors, mainly on the right, have aided the Wahhabi ideology in becoming a global phenomenon to the detriment of Muslims themselves. </p>
<p>Instead of blaming Muslim migration and Islamic extremists for the Christchurch massacre, it is time for the West to look into the mirror and reassess their own narratives and actions regarding Islam and the Islamic world.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/114073/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nicolas Pirsoul does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The arguments of far right commentators who conflate Islam with extremism are flawed. In the rich and complex tradition of Islam, extremists are a small minority who often target other Muslims.Nicolas Pirsoul, Lecturer, Massey UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1067122018-11-18T08:54:31Z2018-11-18T08:54:31ZThe preacher who laid the ground for violent jihadi ideology in Kenya<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/245572/original/file-20181114-172710-w4eyyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Young Muslims protest in 2012 after the killing of a cleric accused of supporting Al-Shabaab.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Dai Kurokawa</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>There are a number of explanations about the genesis of jihadi ideas in Kenya.</p>
<p>One is that it could be linked to the emergence of the large and diverse Salafi community. The Salafi are also popularly known as the Wahhabi because of their association with the teachings of 18th century conservative Saudi scholar <a href="http://www.oxfordislamicstudies.com/article/opr/t125/e916">Muhammad Abd-al-Wahhab</a>. The Salafists first appeared in Kenya in the 1980s under a community of believers known as Ansari Sunnah (the protectors of the tradition of Prophet Muhammad). This heralded the emergence of individuals with extreme religious views among Kenya’s Muslims, who make up <a href="http://worldpopulationreview.com/countries/kenya-population/">11.2% of the population</a> of <a href="http://www.worldometers.info/world-population/kenya-population/">51 million</a>. </p>
<p>Another theory is laid at the door of <a href="https://www.nation.co.ke/news/1056-1102286-15rtioc/index.html">increasing numbers of Muslims studying in the Middle East</a> particularly <a href="https://www.capitalfm.co.ke/news/2016/10/kenya-receives-sh22-billion-saudi-arabia-development/">Saudi Arabia</a>, exposing them to the Wahhabi way of thinking – the Saudi form of Salafism. </p>
<p>The third theory is that <a href="https://www.counterextremism.com/countries/kenya">the insurgency in Somalia</a>, spearheaded by al-Shabaab brought together Muslims from Somalia, Kenya and other nationalities in a conflict zone. This provided a greater opportunity for Kenyan jihadists to feel part of a global Islamic movement.</p>
<p>But <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/13602004.2018.1523359">my research</a> traces the intellectual genesis and the ultimate growth of the jihadi ideology back to a prominent Muslim cleric – Sheikh Abdulaziz Rimo. </p>
<p>Rimo was born in 1949 at Diani in Kwale County on the Kenyan coastline. Early in his 20s, Rimo secured an eight-year scholarship to study at the Islamic University of Medina in Saudi Arabia in 1972. After completing his studies, he returned to Kenya to propagate the Islamic faith among the Digo Muslim community of Kenya’s south coast. This was an undertaking he frequently referred to as jihad – the religious duty of exerting oneself to realise a noble cause. </p>
<p>It’s my view that Rimo’s efforts ushered in a new way of addressing political issues among Kenyan Muslims. His biggest influence included framing the grievance of Muslims along religious lines. By doing so he promoted the idea that religion could be used to solve political problems.</p>
<h2>Rimo’s history</h2>
<p>Like other African students, the reformist imprint of the Medina University scholars left an indelible mark on Rimo. Certainly, the Medina phase was crucial for him in terms of initiating him into the Wahhabi-Salafi teachings. The period shaped him into a Salafi sheikh, which is evident in his sermons. In both words and action the Sheikh denounced Muslims who, in his interpretation, had deviated from the “true” faith. </p>
<p>As a result, he alienated many, particularly those Muslims who held more tolerant views of their religion.</p>
<p>Rimo didn’t confine himself to moral and spiritual issues. In his mosque sermons he also occasionally veered into political matters. And he <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/download/Documents/200000/afr320281990en.pdf">joined the 1990 pro-reform campaigns</a>, becoming a fiery critic of the leadership of Daniel Arap Moi who ruled Kenya between 1978 and 2002. This led to his <a href="http://kenyalaw.org/caselaw/cases/view/131082">imprisonment</a> for six years. </p>
<p>Rimo retreated to a bonded community that came to be known as the Ansari Sunnah. Members of this community were urged to sever ties with institutions that represented the “infidel” state. </p>
<p>The justification for creating the community was to protect its members from the influence of the wider society which was perceived as “un-Islamic”. And it was used to propagate a “purist” brand of Islam among the wider community. </p>
<h2>Ideology of the dispossessed</h2>
<p>Rimo was clearly the intellectual predecessor to the subsequent group of jihadi clerics in Kenya. Although the Sheikh did not take up arms against the state, his approach contributed to future violent confrontation. With the appearance of al-Shabaab and other jihadi groups in Kenya, Rimo had already laid the ground that was favourable for advancing jihadi ideology. </p>
<p>For example, one of Rimo’s student, Sheikh Aboud Rogo, was unwavering in his <a href="https://www.mecon.nomadit.co.uk/pub/conference_epaper_download.php5?PaperID=15138&MIMEType=application/pdf">vocal push to carve up an Islamic state in Kenya</a> at any cost, including the use of violence if necessary.</p>
<p>Following in the footsteps of Rimo, and using Islam as their political ideology, subsequent jihadi clerics lost no opportunity to express abhorrence for their critics and those they considered infidels and apostates. Their provocative sermons and statements were directed against the state, Christians and anti-jihad Muslim clerics. All were accused of advancing anti-Islamic agenda for allegedly supporting government’s efforts in the war on violent extremism. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.mecon.nomadit.co.uk/pub/conference_epaper_download.php5?PaperID=15138&MIMEType=application/pdf">sermons</a> of the prominent jihadi clerics also focused on justifying violent jihadi activities in so-called Muslim areas they considered occupied’ by non-Muslims. </p>
<p>For example, Rogo declared support and validation for the <a href="https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/article/2000096686/why-sheikh-aboud-rogo-was-poster-boy-of-muslim-radicalism">attacks against Christians</a> in various parts of the country. The sheikh depicted the attacks as justified retribution by the supposedly marginalised Kenyan Muslims. He preached intolerance and exclusion in his sermons. According to him, Christian churches had a hidden agenda to undermine Islam. </p>
<h2>Conclusion</h2>
<p>The jihadi initiative remains a loose political force in Kenya. This is dangerous for a few reasons.</p>
<p>Firstly, the country is experiencing religious radicalisation and ethnic popularisation at a time when some sections of Kenyan society are calling for secession. </p>
<p>Secondly, the dangers of people being attracted to radical solutions are multiplied when a country has a poor human rights record, weak political institutions and huge economic inequalities. All are present in Kenya.</p>
<p>And finally, increasing communications with the rest of the Muslim world implies the waves of “reform” championed by jihadi clerics will continue to be evident in Kenya. Rimo’s impact lives on long after his death, in 2015, at his Kwale birthplace.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/106712/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Hassan Juma Ndzovu does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The jihadi initiative remains a loose political force in Kenya. This is dangerous for a few reasons.Hassan Juma Ndzovu, Senior Lecturer of Religious Studies, Moi University Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/911922018-02-26T11:30:16Z2018-02-26T11:30:16ZAfter the niqab: what life is like for French women who remove the veil<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207135/original/file-20180220-116355-r2sso.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Saliha (left) and Alexia in 2012. Alexia no longer wears the veil. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Agnès De Feo</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Islamic headscarves and veils continue to be the subject of intense debate in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/mar/14/headscarves-and-muslim-veil-ban-debate-timeline">Europe</a>. Countries’ approaches toward the burqa and niqab, which cover the face, range from <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/sep/17/veil-womans-choice-theresa-may">tolerance in the UK</a> to an <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2010/jan/31/french-muslim-burqa-veil-niqab">outright ban in France</a>. Reactions of Muslim women to restrictions have varied, including protests by some, reluctant acceptance by others and also <a href="https://www.spectator.co.uk/2017/03/the-right-to-ban-the-veil-is-good-news-for-everybody-including-muslims/">support</a> for bans.</p>
<p>But what happens when a woman who has worn a niqab, sometimes for years, makes the decision to leave it behind?</p>
<p>Hanane and Alexia – whose names are pseudonyms to protect their identity – were both born in France. Hanane grew up in a non-practicing Muslim family, while Alexia converted to Islam at age 22. For five years they both wore a niqab. Hanane began in 2009, just before France banned the full-face veil, while Alexia adopted it later. Once ardent defenders of the right to wear the niqab, both women have now completely abandoned it. But the transition took place gradually and was accompanied by a growing distance from extreme <a href="https://www.brookings.edu/blog/markaz/2016/07/15/islamism-salafism-and-jihadism-a-primer/">Salafist ideology</a>.</p>
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<span class="caption">Hanane today.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Agnès De Féo</span></span>
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<h2>‘Start living again’</h2>
<p>On January 10, during the New Year’s discount sales in France, Alexia and I met near Paris’ Gare du Nord train station. She wanted to buy clothes and “start living again”. In the first shop she bought four slim pairs of pants and a trim jacket. She then tried out some Nepalese clothes designed for Western tastes, including a colourful jacket and pants with huge bell bottoms.</p>
<p>As she came out of the dressing room, Alexia gauged herself in front of the mirror: “It’s really me, I finally feel like myself again after years of being locked up.” With her hair brushing her face, she looked like a modern woman, fully alive. I was impressed with her metamorphosis: it’s hard to imagine that she wore a niqab for five years and was one of the most radical women I’d ever met.</p>
<p>I met Alexia in August 2011 in the context of <a href="https://ehess.academia.edu/Agn%C3%A8sDeFeo">my research on the full-length veil</a> during a demonstration by the Salafist group <a href="http://www.liberation.fr/societe/2015/06/10/forsane-alizza-nous-entendions-creer-une-police-musulmane_1326640">Forsane Alizza</a> (literally Knights of the Pride) in a city near Paris. She was wearing a niqab and presented herself as the wife of one of the group’s leaders.</p>
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<span class="caption">Event of the Salafist group Forsane Alizza in August, 2011. At the centre is its leader, Mohamed Achamlane, who was jailed in 2015 for criminal conspiracy in connection with a terrorist enterprise.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Agnès De Féo</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
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<p>Alexia remembers that time:</p>
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<p>We considered all Muslim supporters of the French Republic to be unbelievers. We were doing the <em>takfir</em> (excommunication) against those who did not practice like us. We were opposed to the <em>taghout</em> (idolatry in the broad sense), i.e., the state and institutions. We defined ourselves as <em>ghûlat</em>, which means ‘extremists’ in Arabic.</p>
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<p>Estimates of the number of women who wear the niqab vary widely, from a few hundred to <a href="http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2009/09/09/01016-20090909ARTFIG00040-deux-mille-femmes-portent-la-burqa-en-france-.php">several thousand</a>. In terms of even France’s Muslim population the percentage is tiny.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/203251/original/file-20180124-107959-1gghw1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Hanane, whom I met on the side-lines of a demonstration in front of the French National Assembly, 2010.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Agnès De Féo</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
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<h2>‘The niqab was protecting me’</h2>
<p>I’ve known Hanane even longer than Alexia. We met during a January 2010 demonstration of women in niqab at the Place de la République in Paris and then in front of the National Assembly. She and others were protesting a proposed measure that would <a href="http://www.assemblee-nationale.fr/13/dossiers/dissimulation_visage_espace_public.%20asp">outlaw concealing one’s face in public</a>.</p>
<p>At the beginning of 2017, Hanane reached out to ask me to help her write a book about her life. In the book she’d like to write, Hanane doesn’t want to denounce the niqab, but to tell the story of the rapes she says were repeatedly inflicted by her father-in-law. To her, they help explain her involvement in Salafism.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Religion brought a lot that helped me escape from the trauma of rape. I was 19 to 20 years old when I started wearing the niqab, I took it off when I was 25. The further I went, the more I wanted to cover myself. The niqab protected me, I liked hiding from men. I could see them, but they couldn’t see me.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Unlike Alexia, who decided on her own to begin wearing a veil, Hanane remembers the influence of her social circle at the time:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We were a bunch of girlfriends and wore niqab almost all at the same time. In our group the earliest was <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/paris-shootings-police-hunting-for-grocery-shop-gunmans-girlfriend-hayat-boumedienne-9969144.html">Ayat Boumédiène</a>, who adopted it more than two years before the law. At first everything was normal with her, and then she started to organise gatherings to encourage us to take up arms. It was her husband, Ahmadi Coulibaly, who turned her head – he was low-key until he went to jail. Ayat wanted to introduce me to a man she said I should marry, she really pushed hard. He was later imprisoned for murder. Thank goodness I didn’t give in – I’d be in Syria today.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>On January 9, 2015, Ahmadi Coulibaly attacked the <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/01/09/amedy-coulibaly-paris-kosher-market_n_6444418.html">Hyper Cacher market near Paris</a>. Boumédiène left Paris one week earlier, and was spotted at the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/video/2015/jan/12/hayat-boumeddiene-shown-on-cctv-at-istanbul-airport-video">Istanbul airport</a>. She remains at large. Coulibaly killed five people during his attack and died when the police assaulted the grocery store in which he was holding hostages.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IJTyWhq_w40?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Trailer of the film <em>Forbidden Veil</em>, directed by Agnès De Féo and produced by Marc Rozenblum, 2017.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘I felt like I was getting out of jail’</h2>
<p>When France banned full-length veils in 2010, some of the women who wore the niqab switched to the jilbab, which covers the whole body except the face, while others <a href="http://www.slate.fr/story/153005/islam-pourquoi-quinquagenaires-virulentes-contre-niqab">gave in to public pressure</a> and ceased wearing it. Both Alexia and Hanane are different: they say they’ve turned the page completely.</p>
<p>Alexia has even become a fierce opponent of the Islamic veil and Salafism. She continues to define herself as a Muslim but reads the texts with a critical eye. Hanane admits that she has become less diligent in her rituals: “I often skip prayers or make them late. Some days I don’t even have time to pray. When I wore the niqab I was a little more regular, even though I was often late.”</p>
<p>Both say they’ve put aside the more radical texts they once favoured, and no longer frequent fundamentalist websites. But this process didn’t happen all at once – it took several months. Alexia says she decided to remove the niqab on the advice of the man who shared her life at the time. A convert to Islam and Salafism, he was a supporter of conservative dress for women, but nonetheless suggested she cease wearing the niqab:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>When he saw my physical condition, he asked me to remove the niqab – he feared for my health. I had worn it to please Allah, but because of the lack of sunlight I wasn’t synthesising vitamin D any more – my health was failing. I followed his advice, but it’s been long and hard.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Alexia remembers:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>When I took the niqab off, I felt like I was getting out of jail. But that doesn’t mean I was released – I still felt bad. It takes years to get by and I haven’t finished cleaning my head yet.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Hanane abandoned her veil after the attacks on the French satirical magazine <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-30710883">Charlie Hebdo in 2015</a> because she feared for her safety, facing more and more insults in the street. She said the hardest part has been the exclusion from her social circle:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Since I removed my veil, many of my Muslim sisters no longer want to talk to me. I find them stuck-up and unfair, because anyone can choose to take off their veil. A few rare ones talk to me, but it’s not like it used to be.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>For a long time Alexia would put her veil back on when returning to her old neighbourhood in northeast Paris where social and religious conservatism is strong in certain communities. Then she finally changed her life entirely.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>My life began to change when I enrolled in a gym, which allowed me to get out of the Salafist social networks that were my only source of socialisation before. Then I got a job and then I finally said goodbye to my past.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>And it was at this job that she met the man whom she would marry. He is not Muslim and the civil marriage took place at city hall, an unthinkable choice for this woman who once hated French institutions.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/202265/original/file-20180117-53328-1oxp5mh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Alexia visits a booth at the annual salon for French Muslims at Le Bourget, north of Paris, 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Agnès De Féo</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A bitter taste</h2>
<p>In hindsight, neither Alexia nor Hanane spoke of their “exit” from the niqab as a liberation. Instead, the experience has left them with a bitter taste. They say they were convinced at some point in their lives of the importance of wearing a full-length veil: Alexia believed that she was achieving Muslim perfection and giving meaning to her life – she imagined meeting the pious and virtuous man who would save her from her life as a single mother. For Hanane, the goal was to heal the wounds of an adolescence torn apart by family trauma and foster care.</p>
<p>Alexia now feels that this period cost her years of her life and expresses anger at the propaganda coming from Saudi Arabia. She blames the entire system that indoctrinated her, even though she acknowledges it was, in a sense, voluntary. According to her, the Islamic State benefits from the naivety of those who believe they are committed to Salafism for legitimate reasons.</p>
<p>Even if they’ve both renounced the niqab, neither Hanane nor Alexia support the 2010 ban. Hanane told me recently: “The law is counterproductive. The only way out is by yourself. The ban will never convince any woman to take it off.” Alexia has the same reaction, saying that the law that has led some women to cut themselves off from society and that some might adopt it as a rebellious gesture.</p>
<p>Testimonies of those who’ve chosen to “leave the niqab behind” are rare. The number of women who have adopted it is extremely low, and the ones who then choose to renounce it must often sever their old relationships and adopt what is in many ways a new identity – they change their e-mail addresses, phone numbers and move on completely. For them the full-length veil has become something firmly in the past, representative of a transitional stage in their lives.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Translated from the original French by Leighton Walter Kille.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/91192/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Agnès De Féo is co-founder of Sasana Productions and teaches at the journalism school CFPJ.</span></em></p>A number of women who once wore and defended the full Islamic veil known as the niqab later chose to renounce it. Here two of them tell their stories.Agnès De Féo, Sociologue, École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales (EHESS)Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/893802018-01-10T13:57:46Z2018-01-10T13:57:46ZWhy the sartorial choices of Salafi clerics sparked a debate on morality in Nigeria<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/201146/original/file-20180108-83559-1l8pf5u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Muslims pray at the Kofar Mata Central Mosque in Kano, Northern Nigeria. Liberal and fundamentalist Islam are in a contest of legitimacy in the region.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Akintunde Akinleye</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The innocuous <a href="http://www.hutudole.com/2017/11/waazin-malaman-izala-kasashen-turaishin.html">photos</a> of two Nigerian Islamic clerics shopping and relaxing in London sparked a fierce debate on social media platforms in northern Nigeria in early December 2017. The photos were quite unremarkable. One showed the two men sitting on a park bench; another showed them in a clothing store wearing cowboy hats. In both, they were dressed in suits. And they were wearing gloves and scarves to protect themselves from London’s cold, wet weather. </p>
<p>The pictures caused a fierce online debate about piety, hypocrisy, morality, the sartorial prescriptions of Islam, and the tyranny of religious authorities in Muslim-majority northern Nigeria. The violent Islamist group, Boko Haram, is <a href="https://africacheck.org/factsheets/factsheet-explaining-nigerias-boko-haram-and-its-violent-insurgency/">active in the region</a>, which has become a hotbed of <a href="http://time.com/3712517/boko-haram-history/">extremism</a>. </p>
<p>So, why were these ordinary images so controversial? Why did they spark heated debates among educated northern Nigerian Muslim men and women? </p>
<p>The answer is simple. The two men are <a href="https://tif.ssrc.org/2017/04/11/salafism-in-nigeria/">Salafi</a> clerics, members of a clerical order that has come to wield <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Salafism-Nigeria-Preaching-Politics-International/dp/1107157439/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1515432356&sr=8-1&keywords=salafism+in+Nigeria">outsized influence</a> over Muslims in northern Nigeria. The clerics act as enforcers of an increasingly puritan Islamic order. They are uncompromising in defining what is moral and permissible and what is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wh10ZpnI2Cw">haram or sacreligious</a>. They often equate Muslims’ engagements with modernity and Western ways of life with immorality and sinful innovation or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52LRSiRbKAI">bid'ah</a>. </p>
<p>This leaves them open to charges of hypocrisy when they appear to make choices seen as contradicting their teachings. And this is what happened in London. The two clerics were wearing what in northern Nigeria is considered western dress. This touched off debates between two camps of young Muslims: those who resent the growing intrusion of the clerics into their lives and are eager to criticise their adventures in a Western city, and those who continue to look on the religious figures as revered exemplars of piety. </p>
<h2>Wahhabism and the roots of Salafi Puritanism</h2>
<p>The Islamic sect to which the two clerics belong heightened the controversy. Sheikh Kabiru Gombe and his mentor, Sheikh Bala Lau, are prominent clerics of the <a href="http://www.bigsas.uni-bayreuth.de/en/Alumni_c_research_p/the_izala_ben_amara/index.html">Izala sect</a>, the most visible face of a growing community of Nigerian <a href="http://religion.oxfordre.com/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199340378.001.0001/acrefore-9780199340378-e-255">Salafism</a>, a branch of Sunni Islam which holds to a strict, uncompromising doctrine. </p>
<p>Leaders of the sect are gaining popularity and displacing mainstream <a href="https://www.files.ethz.ch/isn/116410/pub989.pdf">Sufi</a> clerics in the region. They accuse traditional Sufi Muslims of hobnobbing with modernity and failing to practice Islam in its pure form. Sufis are vulnerable to these accusations because their creed focuses on individual mystical paths to God rather than on outward, political and authoritarian expressions of piety.</p>
<p>This difference has led to an increasingly intense contest between the two sides. The photographs of the two clerics catapulted the contest onto social media, blogs and web forums. </p>
<p>The personalities and profiles of the two clerics contributed to the intensity of the debates.</p>
<p>Sheikh Gombe is known in the region for his ultra-radical Salafi theological <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Va7xl74UqlI">positions</a> and pronouncements. He has made his voice heard in local and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4j2Q_Csmz08">foreign</a> settings, capturing the imagination of some young Muslims in northern Nigeria. He presents an argument that being a pure Muslim means eschewing association with Western modernity. He is against modern and Western institutions such as secular film making, mixed gender socialisation and goods such as Western clothes. All, he argues, can pollute the piety of Muslims.</p>
<p>In my ongoing research on the historical roots of <a href="http://time.com/3712517/boko-haram-history/">Boko Haram</a> in northern Nigeria I call the rise of this branch of Islam the Salafi Islamic wave. Tracing its roots, I have found that it began with the slow but well-funded arrival of <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/saudi/analyses/wahhabism.html">Wahhabism</a> in northern Nigeria in the 1980s and 1990s. Wahhabism is the puritan strain of Sunni Islam birthed in Saudi Arabia by Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab. </p>
<p>The Wahhabi-Salafi’s most dominant organisational umbrella was – and still is – the <a href="http://www.bigsas.uni-bayreuth.de/en/Alumni_c_research_p/the_izala_ben_amara/index.html">Izala sect</a>, which was founded in 1978 in Jos, Nigeria, by followers of the late Sheikh Abubakar <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-sheikh-abubakar-mahmud-gumi-1551628.html">Gumi</a>. </p>
<p>At the time Gumi was travelling throughout the Muslim world and spending time in Saudi Arabia as a member of both the Supreme Council of the Islamic University in Medina and the Legal Committee of the Muslim World League. He returned to Nigeria in 1986 and was recognised as the spiritual leader of the Izala anti-Sufi reform movement. The movement’s following expanded dramatically under him. </p>
<p>The Izala group set up schools and the best graduates were sent – on generous Saudi Arabian scholarships – to the University of Medina to study Islam under a Wahhabi curriculum with a tinge of ultra-radical Salafism. They returned in the 1990s and inaugurated a new Salafi era in northern Nigerian Islam. </p>
<p>In the 2000s, Medina-trained Salafi clerics, backed by Saudi money and patronage, succeeded in upstaging the old Izala clerical order through a mix of youthful charisma, theological novelty and populism. They began entrenching their strict moral code conforming, according to them, to the Islamic Sharia law. </p>
<h2>Beyond photos and suits</h2>
<p>Western culture and lifestyle dominate popular culture in Nigeria. For many young Muslims in northern Nigeria, Salafism’s prescriptions and prohibitions are suffocating, particularly for those who want a more pragmatic engagement with a Western lifestyle. Many believe they can pursue these lifestyle choices and still practice their religion. </p>
<p>But Salafi clerics and their followers see no acceptable compromise. They are increasingly making themselves custodians of public morality. They routinely condemn conduct that they associate with decadent, permissive western modernity. For example, they dictate what northern Nigerian <a href="https://blog.oup.com/2017/01/salafism-physical-appearances/">Muslims can and can’t wear</a>. </p>
<p>The debate around the two clerics was therefore not a trivial conversation about the dress and the recreational choices of two Salafi clerics. The photos were loaded with symbolism and contradictions. Participants in the online debate used the opportunity to criticise – or excuse – the perceived tyranny and hypocrisy of a powerful Salafi establishment. And to express personal anxieties and fears. </p>
<p>The debate about modernity, Islam, and morality has migrated to online platforms because the internet is relatively anonymous. This has given both sides greater freedom to express their views. The debate encapsulates the ongoing ideological struggle in northern Nigerian Islam between those who live and defend a modern lifestyle, and those suspicious of Western modernity and the unmediated influence of Western education and culture.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/89380/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Moses E. Ochonu does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The debate around photos of two Nigerian Salafi clerics taken in London wasn’t a trivial conversation about dress and recreational choices. It was loaded with symbolism.Moses E. Ochonu, Professor of African History, Vanderbilt UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/751642017-03-28T09:19:48Z2017-03-28T09:19:48ZAre converts to Islam more likely to become extremists?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162734/original/image-20170327-3276-c0vj6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Returning to the faith.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/two-religious-muslim-man-praying-together-536585545?src=xBj1bnb2zSvzH9TuKsPumQ-1-0">Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The process of conversion to any religion is best thought of as a journey, and this is how it is often described to others by those who undergo it. While conversion happens in many faiths, conversion to Islam has been suggested as a significant factor in some acts of extreme violence. But what evidence is this based on and what does conversion actually entail?</p>
<p>Conversion to Islam sees non-Muslims take on new religious identities, adopt new beliefs and practices, and learn to live as Muslims who gradually become accepted by others. Technically speaking, it isn’t necessary to “convert” to Islam, as according to Islamic teaching all people are born Muslim; it is more a case of reverting to one’s true identity and submitting to Allah. </p>
<p>In the modern world, the focus is often on individual conversion. However, in a <a href="https://crestresearch.ac.uk/resources/islam-conversion/">recent guide</a> we produced on conversion in Islam, we point out that this hasn’t always been the case. <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/zebiri-2007-converts/">In the past</a> whole populations converted at once, for economic, political or social reasons. </p>
<p>The best known part of this process is repeating the shahadah three times. The shahadah is a phrase that proclaims “there is no God but God and Muhammad is His messenger”. This pronouncement normally takes place in public, in front of other Muslims. As the testimonies of converts show, however, this is part of <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/roald-2012-conversion/">a longer process</a> of religious learning and socialisation in which new and existing relationships have to be negotiated.</p>
<p>The journey into Islam isn’t the same for everyone. While some are new to the religion, others grew up in Muslim families, and are either returning after having lapsed or converting to a different interpretation of Islam. For example, salafi interpretations of Islam have proved popular among <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/debate/inge-salafi-muslims/">young British-Somali Muslims</a>, but there are many other Sunni and Shi'a groups with a variety of <a href="https://crestresearch.ac.uk/comment/whats-difference-sunni-shia-muslims/">differences and similarities</a>. </p>
<p>Personal background makes a difference. Returners have prior knowledge, experience and even language to draw on, as well as existing family and community ties. But newcomers have to build all this from scratch, a change which by turns can be exhilarating and traumatic. It may also be hard for family and friends to come to terms with.</p>
<p>Data on conversion is sparse and has to be extrapolated from diverse sources. What <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/schuurman-converts-and-islamist-terrorism/">research</a> there is suggests that, in most European countries, converts make up between 1% and 5% of the Muslim population (up to 100,000 converts in the UK). In the US, converts (more than 550,000) make up nearly a quarter of Muslims. In the West, most converts are aged between 20 and 30, and more women convert than men.</p>
<p>Why do people convert? The <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/maslim-2009-conversion/">reasons</a> given can be intrinsic – that conversion gives them a sense of belonging, provides certainty about life and the afterlife, or is personally empowering. Extrinsic reasons include encouragement or pressure to convert for marriage, the impact of friends or a feeling of marginalisation by another religious group. Many converts give theological reasons, including the discipline of fasting and prayer, the focus on purity and piety, and the assurance that there is only one God. Some also have a sense of being destined to become Muslims: that Allah willed it.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162736/original/image-20170327-3303-1sos5vo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Drawn to teachings.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/holy-quran-beads-over-wooden-background-351708077?src=rqe3C89WvNkhAAgZTa7KZQ-1-22">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Whether they converted because they were positively drawn to Islamic teachings and practices, or because of personal crises – such as the death of a family member, the need to combat substance addiction, or as an act of rebellion against parents – the reasons given are linked together in a <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/nieuwkerk-2010-converts/">conversion narrative</a>. </p>
<p>These narratives differ according to the individual’s background and circumstances. White and black converts <a href="http://www.cis.cam.ac.uk/publications/narratives-of-conversion-to-islam-in-britain-male-perspectives/">report different experiences</a>, such as the feeling in some cases that white converts are held up as better proving the truth of Islam. Black converts sometimes find it harder to find partners for marriage, and converts from Hindu and Sikh communities often receive the worst and strongest reaction from their families and communities. </p>
<p>Experiences of conversion also differ <a href="http://www.cis.cam.ac.uk/publications/narratives-of-conversion-to-islam-in-britain-female-perspectives/">due to gender</a>. Women converts are often much more visible than men, and this too can lead to markedly different experiences in how conversion is experienced. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162881/original/image-20170328-30816-wmhhng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">It can be harder for women.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/studio-photo-beautiful-young-woman-dressed-404837899?src=vs4_yE1Q4So65Ljm-mtE3g-1-0">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Unwelcome converts</h2>
<p>The conversion journey also can be lengthier and more challenging than most people expect. Some people are shunned by family and friends. Some who adopt Islamic dress are taunted in public <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/crime/muslim-hate-crime-london-attack-woman-hijab-headscarf-ripped-off-pushed-injured-chingford-a7479766.html">or worse</a>. Problems may also come from other Muslims who sometimes expect converts to conform to higher moral standards and to cultural as well as Islamic norms and practices. </p>
<p>Conversion places a heavy social toll on individuals, many of whom do not find the welcome they expected in local Muslim communities. The double disadvantage of <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/moosavi-2014-converts/">Islamophobia</a> and a lack of acceptance is difficult to take. Some have the resilience to overcome these hurdles but others find it too difficult. We do not know how many new Muslims leave Islam in the years following conversion. Some continue to practice privately, others withdraw from Muslim communities quietly. Few are outspoken about leaving as being denounced as an apostate can have severe social consequences.</p>
<h2>The extremist question</h2>
<p>But what about the links between conversion to Islam and violent extremism? As previous terrorist convictions show, <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/karagiannis-2012-converts/">a minority of converts are radicalised</a>, whether by extremist organisations, while in prison or online. However, despite their initial zeal, there’s no evidence that new Muslims in general end up more extreme than those born into Islam, nor that those who are radicalised are more socially, economically or racially disadvantaged than those who are not. </p>
<p>That said, <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/schuurman-converts-and-islamist-terrorism/">research has found</a> that in some countries – which have attracted so-called foreign fighters – converts are over-represented among violent extremists compared to the proportion of converts in the Muslim population as a whole. And <a href="http://www.radicalisationresearch.org/research/mullins-2015-converts/">research</a> comparing American converts and “born” Muslims involved in violent extremism in 2015 found that converts were more likely to be unemployed, and to have a criminal record and a history of mental health problems. These factors were less pronounced in the UK.</p>
<p>What is indisputable is that the majority of new Muslims are not drawn towards extremism. Conversion and radicalisation are not one and the same, and one does not lead inexorably to the other. The former is a process of adopting a new religious identity; the latter, of being drawn into extremist beliefs and behaviours. Conversion for many marks a reported life change leading to feelings of empowerment, enhanced self confidence and self discipline, a sense of well-being and belonging, and in some cases desisting from self abuse, addiction and crime.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/75164/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Matthew Francis is a Senior Research Associate at Lancaster University and the Communications Director for the Centre for Research and Evidence on Security Threats, an independent ESRC centre with funding from the UK security and intelligence agencies.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kim Knott is a Professor in the Department of Politics, Philosophy and Religion at Lancaster University and Deputy Director of the Centre for Research and Evidence on Security Threats, an independent ESRC centre with funding from the UK security and intelligence agencies.</span></em></p>Conversion can be an exhilarating experience, but can come with a significant social toll.Matthew Francis, Senior Research Associate, Lancaster UniversityKim Knott, Professor of Religious and Secular Studies, Lancaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/730982017-02-23T02:02:09Z2017-02-23T02:02:09ZWho exactly are ‘radical’ Muslims?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157752/original/image-20170221-18633-1v598vs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Indian Muslim woman Shagufta Sayyd prays in Mumbai, India.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Rafiq Maqbool</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Trump administration has been using the phrase “radical Islam” when discussing the “war on terror.” From his inauguration address to <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-politics/wp/2017/02/06/trump-warns-anew-against-attacks-by-radical-islamic-terrorists-as-he-visits-centcom/?utm_term=.a07b8e15e91e">remarks to military leaders</a>, President Trump <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/04/us/politics/black-site-prisons-cia-terrorist.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=first-column-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-news&_r=1">has been warning</a> against “Islamic terrorists.” </p>
<p>Many different kinds of individuals and movements get collapsed into this category of radical Islam. A common one that is increasingly being used by <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2017/02/elections-france-security-170215090123247.html">politicians</a> and <a href="http://www.theweek.co.uk/world-news/6073/what-is-salafism-and-should-we-be-worried-by-it">journalists</a> both in Europe and the U.S. to equate with “radical Islam” is the Salafist tradition. </p>
<p>For example, <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/headtohead/2016/01/transcript-michael-flynn-160104174144334.html">Michael Flynn</a>, who recently resigned as national security advisor, was clear that what unites terrorists is their belief in the “ideology” of Salafism. Sebastian Gorka, deputy assistant to the president, <a href="http://www.securityaffairs.org/issues/number-26/why-al-qaeda-just-wont-die">also describes Salafism as a “fundamental understanding of Islam”</a> that <a href="http://www.npr.org/2017/02/03/513213042/trump-assistant-on-presidents-foreign-policy">justifies terrorism</a>. </p>
<p>France and Germany are targeting this movement, vowing to “clean up” or <a href="http://www.dw.com/en/german-vice-chancellor-sigmar-gabriel-calls-for-ban-on-islamist-mosques/a-37036379">shut down Salafist mosques</a>, since several <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/us-germany-security-idUSKBN15G3OY">arrested and suspected terrorists</a> had spent time in these communities.</p>
<p>As a scholar of religion and politics, I have done <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/politicizing-islam-9780190225247?cc=us&lang=en&">research in Salafi communities</a>, specifically in France and India, two countries where Muslims are the largest religious minorities. </p>
<p>Salafists constitute a minority of the Muslim population. For example, in France, estimates range from <a href="http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2012/03/30/01016-20120330ARTFIG00624-entre-5000et-10000-salafistes-en-france.php">5,000</a> to <a href="http://cadmus.eui.eu/bitstream/handle/1814/31911/MWP_2014_13.pdf">20,000</a> – out of a Muslim population of over 4 million. Security experts estimate a worldwide number of <a href="http://www.defence.gov.au/ADC/Publications/IndoPac/Wimhurst_IPSP.pdf">50 million</a> out of 1.6 billion Muslims. </p>
<p>But there’s not much understanding of Salafism, its history and its diversity. In fact, Muslims themselves often have different definitions of what it means to be a Salafist. </p>
<p>So, who are Salafists?</p>
<h2>Origins of Salafism</h2>
<p>The Arabic term salaf means “ancestors.” It refers technically to the first three generations of Muslims who surrounded the Prophet Muhammad. Because they had direct experience with the original Islamic teachings and practices, they are generally respected across the Muslim world. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157753/original/image-20170221-18624-16m3tdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Reaching Kaaba, a building at the center of Islam’s most sacred mosque, Al-Masjid al-Haram, in Mecca, Saudi Arabia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blankqo/26512561856/in/photolist-GoPNXs-pW14oD-6ZaDHV-hvKbx-jRt5E-jRt6y-PG1uV-jRt4L-D4ZTvs-CyBaKL-533wx1-3dqdFx-PwSSo-9eaf3Z-9edjsA-9edj9A-9eaeLH-9ediY1-jCMXT-sg9Yh-pGJeXv-darE1-8q13id-fSnrrR-fSnqSp-fSkXJM-ToF8-2fD7F-yxzVTe-cArVN-8Z4vzm-4rdmfY-y7fr1-qHU3e-qJ4FT-7k9fo8-fSkZYr-fSnpzK-fSnoHK-52ucDd-52q41K-52udpS-52uic1-52pXhD-52q1dc-52uguh-52pYE6-52ufLf-52pYvn-52ucYf">Farid Iqbal Ibrahim</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Self-identified Salafists tend to believe they are simply trying to emulate the path of the Prophet Muhammad and his companions. This might include an array of practices from dress to culinary habits as well as ethical teachings and commitment to faith.</p>
<p>Salafism as a movement is believed to have originated in the 19th and 20th centuries. Some historians claim it started as a <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/global-salafism-9780199326280?cc=us&lang=en&">theological reform movement</a> within <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6572670">Sunni Islam</a>. The impetus was to return to the original teachings and practices of the Prophet Muhammad and the Quran – a consequence, in part, of social changes and Western colonialism.</p>
<p>They specifically cite the works of Egyptian, Persian and Syrian intellectuals from the 19th century as shaping Salafist movements. One recent study, however, argues that these intellectuals from the past <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/the-making-of-salafism/9780231175500">never even used the term Salafism</a>. In other words, there is no authoritative account of how or when exactly this movement originated.</p>
<p>Finally, it is also open to debate as to which Islamic groups, schools of thought and practices may be considered Salafist. This is because groups and individuals who are labeled Salafist do not always view themselves this way. And they <a href="http://religion.oxfordre.com/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199340378.001.0001/acrefore-9780199340378-e-255">disagree amongst each other</a> over what defines authentic Salafist practice. </p>
<h2>Here’s what my research shows</h2>
<p>The vast majority of people who loosely affiliate with Salafism, however, are either <a href="http://cadmus.eui.eu/bitstream/handle/1814/31911/MWP_2014_13.pdf">simply nonpolitical or actively reject politics</a> as morally corrupt. From 2005-2014, I spent a total of two years as an ethnographic researcher in the cities of Lyon, in southeastern France, and in Hyderabad, in south India. I clearly observed this among these two communities. </p>
<p>Every week I participated in mosque lessons and Islamic study circles among dozens of Salafist women. These communities maintain strict separation between men and women, but I was able to interact with and interview a few men as well. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157754/original/image-20170221-18657-1tk11do.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Who are Salafist women?</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/pdenker/10094075635/in/photolist-gnYM1P-icVS6P-4DJqG-8NEWEG-4DWzqi-ptkhwn-9osD3P-ouBR41-49iQxS-qP81pM-3k8kR-6w8PRz-7i3G4x-cbeUJq-raGDVa-6KufRr-bbPwBc-dNubS-B1k938-2EE5tK-Avq4J-85xzWZ-wSA1AE-7rPQxu-axYJRS-6fDoNG-znfxhw-85HC1e-5pKoFm-7xQeWx-odkfuL-fPxGqz-ahr3KF-bRpiQ6-64qbTH-58nCDE-9dAToy-qHghDF-rnFBuJ-92gu5k-kKA5EN-5xfHJT-6fDoNC-5qBSwv-qdG7RJ-8kQRRf-84WVsy-aZnQgD-a9ny1x-quQp7">Patrick Denker</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Based on conversations and observation, I learned that they actually avoided politics. They did not attend protests or do advocacy, and in Lyon many did not vote in elections. </p>
<p>It is the case that there are Muslim women, including many converts, who actively embrace Salafism. They take up strict forms of veiling and work hard to practice their religion every day. </p>
<p>Let’s take Amal, a 22-year-old woman who grew up in a working-class neighborhood in southeastern France. I met her during my time as an ethnographic researcher on Muslim minorities in France. Amal identifies with the Salafist tradition in Islam. And if we go by the definitions being floated around, she would be considered a “radical Muslim”: She prayed five times daily, fasted all 30 days of Ramadan, and wore the “jilbab,” a loose, full-body garment that covers everything but the face. Steadfast in her religiosity, she also studied the Quran regularly and attended local mosques in the area. </p>
<p>She worked hard to live her life in accordance with the ethical teachings of Islam. This included spending part of her week tutoring Muslim girls in the neighborhood who homeschooled. Amal worried a great deal about their futures in France, since <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/The-Republic-Unsettled/">anti-veiling legislation</a> had constrained their opportunities. She also quietly worried about the future of Islam, believing it is under siege both by governments and by the ungodly and destructive work of the Islamic State.</p>
<h2>Religious does not mean radical</h2>
<p>As anthropologists of religion have shown, Salafi women <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-making-of-a-salafi-muslim-woman-9780190611675?cc=us&lang=en&">are not passive adherents</a>. Nor are they forced into strict practices by their husbands. Still, this doesn’t mean they’re all the same.</p>
<p>Among the French Salafist women I knew, most were the daughters and granddaughters of immigrants from the former French North African colonies. Almost a third were converts to Islam that chose specifically the Salafist tradition as opposed to mainstream currents of Islam. They were drawn to the clear expectations, rigorous routines and <a href="http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11133-011-9192-2">teachings about trusting God</a>. </p>
<p>While some of the women were raised in religious families, many broke away from their Muslim families or earned the wrath of their parents for turning to Salafism. Because the parents practiced a cultural form of Islam, or did not practice at all, they did not want their daughters to wear the jilbab. Despite this disapproval, the women focused a great deal on what it meant to have faith in God, and they emphasized that they had to continually struggle to strengthen that faith. </p>
<p>These struggles included various ethical behaviors including not talking too much, suppressing one’s ego and respecting people’s privacy. Along the way, some committed “sins,” like smoking or lying, and deviated from the teachings by not praying or fasting. Some even <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/20566093.2016.1085245">doubted their faith</a>, which they considered normal and acceptable.</p>
<p>In my research, non-Muslims as well as other Muslims claimed Salafists were judgmental of those who did not believe or practice like them. In my observation, the contrary was the case: Salafis emphasized that one’s faith and piety were deeply private matters that no one but God had the right to judge.</p>
<h2>Diverse views</h2>
<p>However, like any movement or tradition, Salafism is profoundly diverse and encompasses a number of debates and struggles for legitimacy.</p>
<p>So, there are those self-identified Salafists around the world who join political organizations or participate in political debates. These include, for example, <a href="http://carnegieendowment.org/2011/12/20/salafis-and-sufis-in-egypt/8fj4">several political parties in Egypt</a> and the <a href="http://ahlehadees.org/">Ahl-i-Hadees</a> in India.</p>
<p>A small minority, <a href="http://www.defence.gov.au/ADC/Publications/IndoPac/Wimhurst_IPSP.pdf">estimated to be 250,000 in number by security experts</a>, <a href="http://fathomjournal.org/fathom-forum-shiraz-maher-mapping-contemporary-salafi-jihadism/">rejects nation-states and embraces political violence</a>. They span continents but are centered in Iraq and Syria. </p>
<h2>Different from Wahhabism</h2>
<p>In today’s climate, however, it has become a political term. This is partly because of its connection to Saudi Arabia. </p>
<p>Salafism is sometimes referred to as Wahhabism, the Saudi Arabian variant of the movement that is intimately tied to the Saudi regime. They share some intellectual roots and theological emphases, but they also differ, <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/global-salafism-9780199326280?cc=us&lang=en&">especially in how they approach Islamic jurisprudence</a>. While Wahhabis follow one of the main Sunni orthodox schools of law, Salafis tend to think through legal questions independently. So equating the two is a mistake. </p>
<p>For some Salafists, labeling them as Wahhabi is a way to dismiss their faith or even insult them. Identifying with Salafism does not mean one supports the politics of the Saudi state. In my research, in both India and France, people sometimes noted concerns about the Saudi government’s political corruption or human rights record. </p>
<p>Yet outwardly, practices might overlap. For example, many Salafist women wear the niqab (that covers the face). <a href="https://openaccess.leidenuniv.nl/bitstream/handle/1887/13326/review_21.pdf?sequence=1">Saudi intellectual centers and sheikhs</a> provide literature and training in numerous countries. They circulate lectures as well as money for building mosques and schools. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/157896/original/image-20170222-6426-1g5e1w9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mecca, Saudi Arabia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/71925103@N00/279803013/in/photolist-qJ4FT-7k9fo8-fSkZYr-fSnpzK-fSnrrR-fSnoHK-fSnqSp-fSkXJM-52ucDd-52q41K-52udpS-52pXhD-52q1dc-52uic1-52uguh-52pYE6-52ufLf-52pYvn-52ucYf-52ueiL-52pZtM-52pZ98-52q3Kn-52q3k6-52ufUs-52ud77-52ugKG-52ugkL-52uiy1-52q4gZ-52ug3q-52ugDm-52uePN-52ugSm-52q3sK-52q3zM-52pYYH-52uhVW-52ueEJ-52q4o8-52q2ee-52pYPM-52q3d2-52q1uV-52q4BB-52pZXi-52q17K-52pYdB-52ucvG-52q2XM">Camera Eye</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>And of course, Mecca and Medina are the spiritual centers for Muslims more broadly. In this way there is a transfer of intellectual and spiritual resources from Saudi Arabia that supports Salafist communities around the globe.</p>
<h2>Avoiding stereotypes, assumptions</h2>
<p>Why is it important to recognize the complexity and diversity of the Salafist movement? </p>
<p>It is true that as one part of the global Islamic revival, <a href="http://www.economist.com/news/middle-east-and-africa/21656189-islams-most-conservative-adherents-are-finding-politics-hard-it-beats">it appears to be growing</a>. And it likely will remain part of the social landscape in a number of cities for the foreseeable future. </p>
<p>But, it is important not to assume that people’s religious faith and practices are the same as terrorist violence. It fuels fear and hatred – like the kind that inspired the recent <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/us-canada-mosque-shooting-toll-idUSKBN15E0F6">shootings at the mosque in Quebec</a> or the arson attack that <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/us-texas-mosque-idUSKBN15N2P6">burned down a mosque in Texas</a>. </p>
<p>So, from my perspective, when we hear politicians warn us of the “global Salafi threat,” or if we see a woman like Amal walking down the street in her jilbab, it’s vital to remember the dangers of simplistic (and mistaken) stereotypes of “radical Muslims.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/73098/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Z. Fareen Parvez received funding from the New Directions in the Study of Prayer at the Social Science Research Council; the National Science Foundation; the University of California Institute on Global Conflict and Cooperation; and the University of California at Berkeley’s Center for Race and Gender, Center
for Middle Eastern Studies, and Institute of International Studies.</span></em></p>Muslims from the Salafist tradition can often be seen as ‘radical.’ There is not much understanding of Salafism, its history and its diversity. Here’s what it means to be a Salafist.Z. Fareen Parvez, Assistant Professor of Sociology, UMass AmherstLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/721202017-01-31T15:53:14Z2017-01-31T15:53:14ZWhy Morocco’s burqa ban is more than just a security measure<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/154974/original/image-20170131-13227-1j9woal.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Moroccan women walking in capital Rabat.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/STR</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Moroccan authorities have recently banned the manufacturing, marketing and sale of the burqa – an outer garment worn by some Muslim women to cover themselves in public. It completely conceals the face, with a mesh cloth shielding the eyes from view.</p>
<p>The decision is noteworthy in a country whose population is <a href="http://acad.depauw.edu/%7Emkfinney/teaching/Com227/culturalportfolios/Morocco/W-Religion.html">99% Muslim</a>. So what does the ban mean?</p>
<p>The Moroccan Ministry of Interior <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/2017/01/reports-morocco-bans-production-sale-burqa-170110140716164.html">cited</a> security concerns as the reason for the ban. It argued that wearing the burqa could help criminals and terrorists hide their identities. Indeed, several criminals have <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/morocco-bans-burqa-security-fears-bandit-a7520156.html">reportedly</a> used the burqa or niqab – a veil that covers the face but not the eyes – to perpetrate crimes, including theft.</p>
<p>But beyond immediate security concerns, the real worry for the moderate Moroccan government is the spread of radical, <a href="http://www.theweek.co.uk/world-news/6073/what-is-salafism-and-should-we-be-worried-by-it">Salafist</a>
Islam. Salafism <a href="http://www.ffgi.net/en/files/dossier/dossier-morocco-schuckmann_en.pdf">has been linked</a> to ISIS and terrorism in North Africa. Morocco’s concern with terrorism is exacerbated by the fact that it receives about <a href="http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/ST.INT.ARVL">10 million visitors</a> a year and partly depends on tourism revenues for its development. The government believes that banning the burqa will limit expression of radical Islam and will help contain it. </p>
<h2>Women’s wear tells a story</h2>
<p>A very small minority of women wear the burqa in Morocco – a country where modernity and tradition live together and whose king, Mohammed VI, fosters moderate Islam. </p>
<p>The djellaba – a hooded robe – is the historical, national garment of Moroccan women. It’s traditionally worn with a veil called a litham and worn together they cover the woman’s face and body, except her eyes. During the fight for independence, especially in the 1940s, the djellaba was a symbol of nationalism and a shield of identity. </p>
<p>Today, the djellaba is mostly worn without the litham.</p>
<p>But with the rise of <a href="http://www.encyclopedia.com/religion/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/political-islam">political Islam</a> in the mid-1980s came various new, foreign veiling practices – including the hijab, the niqab and the burqa. Under the influence of the Gulf nations, the hijab – a scarf that covers the hair – gradually infiltrated Moroccan society and came to be worn along with the djellaba or other western-type clothing.</p>
<p>Like the hijab, the niqab and the burqa are linked to the spread of Salafist Islam in North Africa. The niqab and burqa are worn especially in radical Islamist or <a href="http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2015/06/morocco-salafist-sheikhs-regime-isis.html">Salafist</a> circles in conservative regions in the north of Morocco. Hundreds of jihadists have <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/morocco-fight-islamic-state-recruitment-by-moha-ennaji-2015-10?barrier=accessreg">travelled from this region</a> to fight in Syria and Iraq . </p>
<p>Within this context, the burqa is perceived by many Moroccans as alien to their culture. Among intellectuals in general – except the ultra conservative Salafists – the wearing of the burqa is perceived as an unwelcome <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/03/29/what-is-wahhabism-the-reactionary-branch-of-islam-said-to-be-the/">Wahhabi</a> practice.</p>
<h2>Opinions split</h2>
<p>It’s notable that the ban hasn’t created a mass outcry. This can probably be attributed to the decision to ban the sale and production of burqas, rather than the burqa itself – at least for the time being. But the burqa ban has certainly split opinion in the country. </p>
<p>The Salafist extremist Abu Naim issued a <a href="http://fr.le360.ma/politique/burqa-le-salafiste-abou-naim-excommunie-a-tort-et-a-travers-103437">video</a> on his Facebook page calling those who made this decision “infidels, apostates and renegades who are leading a war against God”. </p>
<p>Some Salafist Muslim groups like <a href="http://enhancedwiki.altervista.org/en.php?title=Party_of_Renaissance_and_Virtue">Annahda wa Al Fadila</a> (Renaissance and Virtue) have strongly criticised the move. They warn that the burqa ban is a first step towards banning the niqab. This, they argue, would lead to a real split in Moroccan society, where more women wear the niqab. </p>
<p>Progressive women’s organisations argue that the ban is justified because the burqa oppresses women. Nouzha Skalli, a former Minister for Family and Social Development, welcomed the ban and <a href="http://www.breitbart.com/national-security/2017/01/11/morocco-bans-burqa/">described it</a> as “an important step in the fight against religious extremism”. Saida Drissi, Chair of the Democratic Association of the Women of Morocco, <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/01/12/morocco-bans-sale-production-burka/">pointed out</a> that “when it’s about wearing a hijab, a burqa, Salafists all agree… but we never hear them [protest] when a girl can’t wear a miniskirt”. </p>
<p>Others reject the burqa as a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/11/world/africa/morocco-ban-burqa-niqab.html">neocolonial import</a> from the Gulf states.</p>
<p>The Northern Moroccan National Observatory for Human Development <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-38574457">considered</a> the decision “arbitrary” and an “indirect violation of women’s freedom of expression”.</p>
<p>But for the Amazigh researcher and activist Ahmed Assid the ban of the manufacture and sale of the burqa is legitimate and desirable. He <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/morocco-bans-burqa-security-fears-bandit-a7520156.html">welcomed the move</a> because this foreign garment has been used improperly to aid criminal and terrorist acts. </p>
<h2>The new paradox and women’s rights</h2>
<p>The burqa ban and the debate that it has fomented has drawn attention to the tension that exists in Morocco between official moderate Islam and conservative Islam, which is a growing minority. </p>
<p>This is the new paradox in Morocco. And it has significant implications for women’s rights. On the one hand, recent legal and institutional reforms have had a significant impact on democracy and the modernisation process in Moroccan society. These include the <a href="http://english.dohainstitute.org/release/c0c2a631-7718-4525-a30c-f7101e5cd767">amended constitution</a> of 2011, which guarantees gender equality and women’s political participation, and the <a href="http://buffett.northwestern.edu/documents/working-papers/ISITA_09-002_Harrak.pdf">reform of the Family Code</a> in 2004. </p>
<p>On the other hand, the Salafists who defend the burqa and the niqab want to Islamise society further. They ultimately <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/06/what-is-an-islamic-caliphate-and-why-did-isis-make-one/373693/">aim</a> to establish the Islamic caliphate in Morocco, which allows beheadings, the captivity of women, sexual jihad, and anti-women fatwas. </p>
<p>Given this paradox, the burqa ban, which favours moderate Islam and secularism, is significant. Although it’s obviously motivated by security concerns, the ban is part of a broader fight against religious extremism and terrorism.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72120/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Moha Ennaji does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The recent burqa ban in Morocco highlights tensions between radical Salafists and a moderate Islamic government that has taken steps to further women’s rights.Moha Ennaji, Professor of Linguistics, Gender, and Cultural Studies, International Institute for Languages and CulturesLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/640722016-09-14T11:55:02Z2016-09-14T11:55:02ZYears of fixation on defeating al-Qaeda have stunted US foreign policy<p>In May 2011, <a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/05/02/osama-bin-laden-dead">President Barack Obama announced</a> that US special forces had killed Osama bin Laden, the al-Qaeda leader who oversaw the attacks on the World Trade Centre and Pentagon on <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-catastrophic-legacy-of-9-11-will-define-the-us-for-years-to-come-64067">September 11, 2001</a>. Obama called bin Laden’s death “the most significant achievement to date in our nation’s effort to defeat al-Qaeda.”</p>
<p>The problem for Obama is that “defeating al-Qaeda” is no longer a meaningful frame for the struggle to make the world safe from terrorism and violence – and yet the US and its allies still regularly invoke it to make sense of their own actions.</p>
<p>Five years since bin Laden was “taken out”, the world is dogged by far more violence and destruction than he ever caused. Thousands died on 9/11, but hundreds of thousands more have perished in other conflicts, including many with other radical Islamist movements. Millions are displaced with little to no prospect of a return home.</p>
<p>For all the chaos and violence that looms large in its history, al-Qaeda is not the chief culprit. Instead, bin Laden was already a bystander in May 2011, relegated years earlier to the refuge of a Pakistani safe house. And since then, his much-vaunted organisation has been dramatically outpaced by other groups, whose plans and operations are much more dangerous.</p>
<p>The truth is that al-Qaeda was long ago reduced to a mere symbol. It was largely a spent force by the end of 2005. Most of the key figures were dead or locked in limbo at Guantanamo Bay; its international networks had been disrupted, even destroyed. Its leaders were sequestered in their sanctuary in Pakistan, and showpiece attacks directly inspired by bin Laden and his lieutenants were a thing of the past. </p>
<p>Instead, the world was subject to a new breed of terrorist carnage. </p>
<p>This was thanks in part to George W. Bush’s belligerent administration, whose assorted follies created a whole new set of problems still with us today. The US-led invasion of Iraq left that country shattered by insurgency, civil war, and sectarianism. Afghanistan, supposedly “liberated” from the Taliban after 9/11, instead became an arena of competing factions – included the far-from-vanquished Taliban.</p>
<h2>Former glories</h2>
<p>The cottage industry of terrorism analysts and “jihadologists” spawned by 9/11 maintained that al-Qaeda was still the central challenge because of its so-called “franchises” in Iraq, the Arabian Peninsula and North Africa. Since the spectre of al-Qaeda always guaranteed attention and support, this perception held sway in almost all of the world’s media.</p>
<p>But it was an illusion. If local movements had been inspired by al-Qaeda, they had now gone their own way in all but name. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2006/jun/09/guardianobituaries.alqaida">Abu Musab al-Zarqawi</a>, a petty criminal from Jordan who met bin Laden in Afghanistan, was finally able to create his movement amid the turmoil in Iraq in 2003. He branded it “al-Qaeda in Iraq”, but its approach was very different from Bin Laden’s, concentrating on the “near war” in Iraq rather than the “far war” in the West and elsewhere. It also used even more violent methods than those considered acceptable by the al-Qaeda leader.</p>
<p>In Pakistan, the US’s primary battles weren’t with al-Qaeda but with the Pakistani Taliban and local factions fighting for power and influence in the country’s north-west. In North Africa, a Salafist group made up mainly of Algerians, Moroccans, and Saharan groups styled itself “<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/al-qaeda-in-maghreb-aqim-terror-group-who-where-a6929276.html">al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb</a>” for the purposes of its local campaigns. <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-15336689">Al-Shabaab</a>, meanwhile, has always been grounded in the conflict in Somalia, even if it has claimed “allegiance” to al-Qaeda of some sort.</p>
<p>At the same time, deadly and quite unrelated conflicts were brewing elsewhere. In Iraq, the al-Maliki government was pursuing <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-20860647">increasingly harsh measures</a> against Sunni communities; in neighboring Syria, Bashar al-Assad and his military were using a variety of methods to kill civilians en masse. </p>
<p>And then there were the decades-old conflicts that had helped propel Bin Laden’s initial vision. While the US had at least <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2003/09/22/world/the-struggle-for-iraq-last-american-combat-troops-quit-saudi-arabia.html">removed its troops from Saudi Arabia</a>, the Israeli-Palestinian dispute remained beyond resolution, and would remain so long after bin Laden’s demise.</p>
<h2>The B-team</h2>
<p>All of these demanded a considered approach that took account of the local causes of conflict, not the blunt invocation of “al-Qaeda”. But it was far easier to take refuge in the spectre than to engage with the political, social, and military difficulties that were emerging on the ground.</p>
<p>President Obama made that much clear in a telling and ultimately rather damaging <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/01/27/going-the-distance-david-remnick">interview with the New Yorker’s David Remnick</a> in January 2014, a few days after the so-called Islamic State (IS) – the descendant of Zarqawi’s Iraq militia – had taken advantage of the Iraqi government’s missteps to capture the city of Fallujah.</p>
<p>Remnick put it to Obama that “the flag of al-Qaeda is now flying in Fallujah in Iraq, and among various rebel factions in Syria, [and] al-Qaeda has asserted a presence in parts of Africa, too”. The president responded with a basketball reference, suggesting that IS was not a top-tier threat:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The analogy we use around here sometimes, and I think is accurate, is if a [junior varsity] team puts on Lakers uniforms, that doesn’t make them [Lakers superstar] Kobe Bryant.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Within months, IS had shamed Obama’s complacency. It severed its ties to al-Qaeda and embarked on a <a href="https://theconversation.com/is-sweeps-across-borders-and-takes-grip-of-an-iraq-collapsing-back-into-civil-war-27886">lightning offensive</a> which took much of Iraq, including the cities of Mosul and Tikrit, and ultimately seized swathes of cross-border territory. </p>
<p>This was (and still is) beyond al-Qaeda’s ability. But instead of directly grappling with the new reality, Obama simply grafted the label of “terrorist” from the remainder of bin Laden’s men onto IS. He <a href="https://www.chathamhouse.org/sites/files/chathamhouse/publications/ia/INTA92_1_04_SiniverLucas.pdf">dislocated the new threat from its local setting</a>, even using an acronym – “ISIL”, for the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant – which made no reference to Syria at all.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We continue to face a terrorist threat. We can’t erase every trace of evil from the world, and small groups of killers have the capacity to do great harm … One of those groups is ISIL.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Indeed, the bonus for Obama was that he could use “ISIL” and the al-Qaeda spectre to remove himself from other quandaries. His policy towards Syria was in disarray by 2014, as the regime not only defied calls to remove Bashar al-Assad from office but added chemical weapons to its attacks on opposition areas; he vetoed any effective response to Assad’s behaviour and shifted the focus to IS, justifying the course correction by tarnishing much of the Syrian rebellion as “extremist”. </p>
<p>This neatly collapsed the incredibly complex Syrian catastrophe into a simple counter-terrorism problem, and set the stage for two years of disastrously negligent US policy.</p>
<p>Had the spectre of al-Qaeda not dominated the US’s security policy for so long, perhaps the Obama administration would’ve been more imaginative and less blinkered. Instead, the long-standing obsession with the group has worn a deep groove that US foreign policy seems unable to escape.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Scott Lucas can be heard discussing the US’s Syria policy on the latest episode of The Conversation’s podcast, <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/podcasts/the-anthill">The Anthill</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/64072/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Scott Lucas does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The US seems stuck in War-on-Terror mode even though reality has moved on.Scott Lucas, Professor of International Politics, University of BirminghamLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/518042016-02-18T19:19:57Z2016-02-18T19:19:57ZWhy is Islam so different in different countries?<p><em>The rise of Islamic State has led to much speculation about the group’s origins: how do we account for forces and events that paved the way for the emergence of the jihadist group?</em></p>
<p><em>In the fourth article of our series on the <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/understanding-islamic-state">historical roots of Islamic State</a>, Aaron Hughes explains the amazing regional variation in Islamic practice to illustrate why Islamic State appeared where it did.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>No religion is unified. How Catholicism, for example, is practised in rural Italy differs from the way this is done, say, in New York city. Language, culture, tradition, the political and social contexts, and even food is different in these two places. </p>
<p>Such geographic differences are certainly important in Islam. But also important are the numerous legal schools and their interpretations. Since Islam is a religion predicated on law (sharia), variations in the interpretation of that law have contributed to regional differences. </p>
<p>Also significant in the modern world is the existence of other religions. Malaysia, for example, has a relatively <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religion_in_Malaysia">large percentage of religious minorities</a> (up to 40% of the population). Saudi Arabia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religion_in_Saudi_Arabia">has virtually none</a>. </p>
<p>This means Malaysia has had to develop a constitution that protects the rights of religious minorities, whereas Saudi Arabia has not. And it’s why Islam is so different in these two countries.</p>
<h2>Schools of thought</h2>
<p>There are historical reasons for this variation. Despite popular opinion, Islam didn’t appear fully formed at the time of Muhammad (570-632). There were huge debates over the nature of religious and political authority, for instance, and who was or was not a Muslim. </p>
<p>It’s similarly misguided to assume that a unified teaching simply spread throughout the Mediterranean region and beyond. </p>
<p>How Muhammad’s message developed into the religion of Islam — complete with legal and doctrinal content — took centuries to develop and cannot concern us here. </p>
<p>What <em>is</em> important to note, however, is that his message spread into various (unbordered) regions. Modern nation states would only arise much later. And each of these areas was already in possession of its own set of religious, legal and cultural traditions.</p>
<p>The result was that Islam had to be articulated in the light of local customs and understandings. This was done, in part, through the creation of legal courts, a class of jurists (ulema; mullas in Shi`ism), a legal code (sharia) and a system of interpretation of that code based on rulings (fatwas).</p>
<p>Many local customs arose based on trying to understand Muhammad’s message. And these customs and understandings gave rise to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islamic_schools_and_branches">distinct legal schools</a>. </p>
<p>Although there were originally many such schools, they gradually reduced to four in Sunni Islam – Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi`i and Hanbali. While these four schools all regard one another as orthodox, they nevertheless have distinct interpretations of Islamic law. Some of their interpretations are more conservative than others. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/111278/original/image-20160212-29175-9bxy0z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>There are also a number of such schools in Shi`i Islam, as you can see from the image above. </p>
<p>The four Sunni schools are associated with distinct regions (as are the Shi`i schools). The Maliki school, for example, is prominent today in Egypt and North Africa. The Hanafi is in western Asia, the Shafi`i in Southeast Asia and the Hanbali (the most conservative) is found primarily in Saudi Arabia and the Persian Gulf states. </p>
<h2>Fundamental differences</h2>
<p>All this legal and local variation has produced different interpretations of the religion. But despite such regional and legal diversity, many Muslims and non-Muslims insist on referring to Islam and sharia as if they were stable entities.</p>
<p>An example might be illustrative of the extent of the differences within Islam. Many non-Muslims are often surprised to learn of the cult of saints, namely the role Sufi saints (Sufism is Islamic mysticism) have played and continue to play in the daily life of Muslims. </p>
<p>A Sufi saint is someone who is considered holy and who has achieved nearness to God. Praying to these saints and making pilgrimages to their shrines is a way to, among other things, ask for intercession. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/110759/original/image-20160209-12831-18iukny.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>Although these practices are not unlike the role and place of saints in Catholicism, in Islam they are much more localised. And this locally varied cult of saints played and continues to play an important role in Islamic religious life from Morocco in the West to Pakistan in the East. </p>
<p>Devotion to the saints is believed to cure the sick, make fertile the barren, bring rain, and so on. Needless to say, such devotion is often frowned upon by more fundamentalist interpretations. </p>
<p>While most legal schools are content – albeit somewhat bothered – by such practices, the conservative Hanbali school forbids cults like this. Its adherents have, among other things, destroyed tombs of saints in both the premodern and modern eras. They have also been responsible for the destruction of shrines associated with Muhammad’s family, such as the shrines and tombs of Muhammad’s wife. </p>
<p>The Hanbali school, backed by the wealth of the Saudi ruling family, has also tried to make inroads into other areas. Those associated with this legal school, for example, have built madrasas (religious seminaries) in regions traditionally influenced by other legal schools of thought. </p>
<p>Most fundamentalist movements in Islam, including Islamic State, have emanated from such ultra-conservative elements. The Taliban in Afghanistan and Pakistan, for instance, are influenced by the more conservative elements of Hanbali ideology, even though they exist in a predominantly Hanafi legal environment. </p>
<p>The goal of many of these groups, sometimes referred to as Wahhabis or Salafis, is to return to what they imagine to be the pure or pristine version of Islam as practised by Muhammad and his earliest followers. They often have strict interpretations of Islam, strict dress codes and separation of the sexes. </p>
<p>Today, there are more than one and a half billion Muslims worldwide, making Islam the second-largest religion on the planet after Christianity. But it is a rich and variegated religion. And this variation must be taken into account when dealing with it. </p>
<p>Most importantly, the variation cannot be papered over with simplistic slogans or stereotypes. That women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia but are in places like Malaysia tells you something about this variation.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This article is the fourth in our series on the <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/understanding-islamic-state">historical roots of Islamic State</a>. <a href="http://bit.ly/UnderstandingIS">Download our special report</a> collating the whole the series.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/51804/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aaron W. Hughes does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Since Islam is predicated on law, variations in the interpretation of that law – along with geography and distinct legal schools – have all contributed to differences in the religion.Aaron W. Hughes, Philip S. Bernstein Professor of Jewish Studies, University of RochesterLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/444162015-07-20T01:05:19Z2015-07-20T01:05:19ZIslam: the ‘Open Civilisation’ confounds closed minds<p>The modern era defines a period when Islam passes through the shadows, or so it would seem. Islam remains in the media spotlight, with <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-07-19/police-out-in-force-as-protesters-converge-in-more-rival-rallies/6631212">anti-Islamic rallies</a> being held around Australia. It is portrayed as the religion that fails to integrate into modernity. Apparently, the only remedy is the construction of a “Western Islamic” identity.</p>
<p>This is a hugely problematic and skewed view of Islamic history and the potential of Muslim communities. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Bulliet">Richard Bulliet</a>, professor of history at Columbia, has argued that the period 1300 to 1900 is the “golden age” of Islam. This period is hardly talked about in academic circles and seldom without the taint of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernard_Lewis">Bernard Lewis’</a> hypothesis about the decline of the Muslim world and his claim about the unimaginativeness of the Muslim empires during the age of European discovery.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Richard Bulliet discusses the history of the Muslim world, highlighting problems in how we discuss Islam.</span></figcaption>
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<p>This portrayal, Bulliet argues, resonates strongly with the contemporary notion of Muslims as dullards incapable of inventiveness and innovation in the modern world. An aspect of this is that the “West” has bought into the <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-hundreds-of-westerners-are-taking-up-arms-in-global-jihad-28302">Salafi</a> argument that there is a pure form of Islam against which the great <a href="https://theconversation.com/muslims-need-to-counter-violent-jihadists'-claim-to-represent-Islam-43051">diversity of the global ummah</a> (Muslim community) is tested.</p>
<p>The global reality is different. Bulliet makes a pertinent point about “Islam” being the “Open Civilisation”. He also presents the clearest evidence to refute a theory of decline. </p>
<p>The period 1300 to 1900 was a time of increased conversion to Islam in what Bulliet calls the “Muslim south”, places such as West and East Africa, Southern India, Bangladesh, Southeast Asia, but not including equally important newly converted outer-lying regions such as China. The phenomenon of conversion to Islam during 1300 to 1900, a period of so-called decline, undermines the credibility of Lewis’ influential thesis.</p>
<h2>Muslims actually</h2>
<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muslim_world#Countries_with_the_largest_Muslim_populations_.282010.29">Most</a> of the <a href="http://www.pewforum.org/files/2009/10/Muslimpopulation.pdf">world’s Muslims</a> today are direct descendants of those converts from the 1300 to 1900 period, which occurred after the <a href="http://lostislamichistory.com/mongols/">Mongol devastation</a>. These Muslims have little connection with those Muslims of the early medieval era, a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muslim_conquests">period of conquest</a> and empire-building, nor with earlier events in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/?title=Mecca#Muhammad_and_conquest_of_Mecca">Mecca</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medina#Religious_significance_in_Islam">Medina</a>.</p>
<p>The point often missed is that they are the majority of the Muslim migratory population who are presently moving into regions of the Western world. It is their voice that is <a href="https://theconversation.com/islams-silent-majority-moderate-voices-drowned-out-by-extremists-30706">not being heard</a>; instead, a conservative, puritanical view of Islam has made a deep impression on the Western imagination.</p>
<p>This blinkered view of Islam continues, for example, to be perpetuated through Saudi Arabia. The kingdom is both privately and publicly invested in promoting its <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-wahhabism-in-saudi-arabia-36693">own traditionalist version</a> of Islam. Such a view, though constantly in the “public” eye, does not constitute a majority in Islam, nor does it amount to hegemony over Islam.</p>
<p>There seems to be confusion about what constitutes “majority” opinion on, say, hardline attitudes and what might qualify as “hegemony”. Having less than a quarter of the Muslim population advocating death for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XROJwaRg9pM&list=PLlsKuHEwO-Kq1cYSak1jW4hxlLIvRitle">apostasy</a> does not equate with majority. Radical Muslim groups vying for a <a href="https://theconversation.com/caliphate-a-disputed-concept-no-longer-has-a-hold-over-all-muslims-41521">caliphate</a> do not constitute hegemony. There has to be a majority for there to be hegemony, and the majority of Muslims are ordinary, <a href="http://nceis.unimelb.edu.au/?a=503339">more liberal-minded</a> people.</p>
<h2>Freedom of religion includes Islam too</h2>
<p>Another side to this is that Muslims should have the right to practise their faith freely, in whatever form and to whatever lawful degree they choose, without being suspected of being “terrorists”. People who are strict practising Muslims are not necessarily associated, and should not be assumed to be, with extremist militant jihadists. Practising one’s religion with sincerity and rigour is one thing; being confused with extremist militant jihadists is another thing altogether.</p>
<p>The relationship between militant extremists and the Muslim faith is coincidental. The relationship between dissenting views about the culture of Western capitalism and liberal democratic idealism and being a strictly practising Muslim is coincidental.</p>
<p>It is true that people in Muslim countries around the world retain an anti-“Western” attitude. They oppose American, British or Australian policies, for example. Yet there is not necessarily a causal link between this attitude and Islam.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XROJwaRg9pM&list=PLlsKuHEwO-Kq1cYSak1jW4hxlLIvRitle">Reinforcing this argument</a> is that most Muslim countries in the Middle East are not governed by Muslim regimes, but by autocratic rule. Over the past half-century or more, <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2012/03/201232710543250236.html">foreign support</a> of these autocracies has understandably led to Muslim disdain for <a href="https://theconversation.com/radical-islam-and-the-west-the-moral-panic-behind-the-threat-43113">“Western” involvement</a>. The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XROJwaRg9pM&list=PLlsKuHEwO-Kq1cYSak1jW4hxlLIvRitle">fall-back to religion</a>, Islam, for those who feel oppressed by autocracies certainly does not reduce the whole of Islam to a religion that breeds radical jihadists.</p>
<p>Religions are not themselves living phenomena that move through time; they are moved by the actors who interpret core religious texts and participate through the religions to which they belong. Human agency makes the religion what it is. </p>
<p>Religion is ultimately subject to interpretation and its manifestations are representative of the struggles that individuals face in coming to terms with what it means to be religious in everyday life.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/44416/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Milad Milani does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The Islam that causes alarm and protests in the West is not representative of the beliefs and practices of the world’s Muslims. Most are Asian and they are the ones more likely to migrate to the West.Milad Milani, Lecturer, History and Political Thought, Western Sydney UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/318722014-09-24T16:31:02Z2014-09-24T16:31:02ZEuropean governments play their part in driving young Muslims to extremism<p>Governments in Europe have been horrified to see their young nationals turning to extremist groups and committing terrible acts in their name, but few have stopped to think about how their own policies have contributed to the problem.</p>
<p>For decades, European countries have made it difficult for young people to be pious Muslims and feel European at the same time. But that hasn’t stopped them, it has simply taught them that their new-found faith may not be compatible with their European life. That in turn makes them all the more vulnerable to people <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-very-french-jihad-hundreds-head-to-syria-and-paris-fears-their-return-26077">recruiting for extremist groups</a>.</p>
<p>Islam is now a significant part of the young, racially-mixed urban culture that exists all over Europe and, to some extent, North America. Thousands of Europeans convert to Islam and many ethnic Muslims who did not grow up in religious homes find Islam through friends.</p>
<h2>Making new friends</h2>
<p>Converted or born-again newcomers to Islam who find religion on their own often don’t fully understand that there are many different interpretations of Islam. They try to learn about the faith either on the internet or through neighbourhood mosques.</p>
<p>Many of them often end up in puritan <a href="http://www.theweek.co.uk/politics/6073/what-salafism-and-should-we-be-worried">Salafi mosques</a>, which promote the idea of leaving all Western traditions behind and strictly emulating the life of Prophet Muhammad. Salafism is at heart a particularly conservative branch of Sunni Islam.</p>
<p>Salafis in Europe reach out to young people and converts more than other branches of Islam. Most Sunni mosques in Western Europe often have ties to countries such as Turkey or Morocco, where national mosque communities are less welcoming of converts, which makes them less approachable to Europeans. Mosques in the west that depend on financial support and other resources from these countries tend to function in the language of the immigrant community and are not welcoming to third or fourth-generation Muslims who do not speak these languages. </p>
<p>Salafi mosques operate quite differently in European cities. They are among the few Islamic centres to use the local European language as their main mode of communication rather than Arabic and their communities tend to reflect the national and racial diversity of their surrounding neighbourhoods. Most Salafi communities across Europe are not jihadist, and even stay away from political engagement. Most converts or born-again Muslims, especially those with a criminal, find their lives are significantly improved by joining Salafi communities. They finish school, get married, establish businesses, and start a new life.</p>
<p>The problem can be that the isolationist nature of Salafi communities also provides a context for jihadists to recruit young and impressionable new Muslims. Because Salafi communities prize leading a lifestyle cut off from non-Muslims and other branches of Islam, newcomers to religion often turn their back on their families and friends and are more easily impressed by the new people they meet, even when they promote radical ideas. </p>
<p>European Muslim converts are an excellent opportunity for jihadists, as they come with valuable resources such as money, mobility, linguistic ability and access to technology.</p>
<h2>No direction</h2>
<p>For decades, many European governments have made life difficult for European Muslims. They have treated individuals or groups that promoted Islam among, say, French or German nationals, with suspicion. They have instead supported mosques that centre around one or another distinct national group. Rather than making it possible for people to receive Islamic education in their local context and local language, governments have enabled Imams who do not speak the local language and know nothing of local culture or issues to carry on as they were, rather than adapting.</p>
<p>These policies have ensured that most mosques do not speak to the realities of young people in their areas. Despite their isolation from other branches of Islam and Western culture, Salafi mosques have stood apart in this respect. They reject the Western way of life but are keen to recruit more people away from it at the same time. They are streets ahead of national mosques in tuning into European culture and life and are an appealing option as a result.</p>
<h2>Changing times</h2>
<p>European conversion to Islam is part and parcel of the immigration process. As Muslims become more European, more Europeans will become Muslims and children of non-religious Muslim immigrants will become more involved in Islam independently of their families. </p>
<p>The solution to the integration of Muslims is also an answer to radicalisation. European governments should trust and support individuals and organisations who promote being both Europeans and pious Muslims. They should encourage Islamic education in the local language and stop treating converts as threats to the nation.</p>
<p>Being European and a pious Muslim should not feel like a devious act that can be practised only away from mainstream society. That will only reinforce the equation of being a European Muslim with being radical. It will make it easier for jihadists to appeal to young Muslim converts and born-again Muslims.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/31872/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Esra Özyürek received funding from German Academic Exchange Program, Fulbright Foundation, and Alexander von Humboldt Foundation to do research on this issue.</span></em></p>Governments in Europe have been horrified to see their young nationals turning to extremist groups and committing terrible acts in their name, but few have stopped to think about how their own policies…Esra Özyürek, Associate Professor in Contemporary Turkish Studies, London School of Economics and Political ScienceLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.