Why Mehdi Hasan is half right and half wrong on foreign policy as a cause of terrorism

Uncomfortable though it might be, it is entirely conceivable the Woolwich attack was motivated by both an unwise, unsustainable and unjust foreign policy, and the beliefs predominant within minority elements of British Sunni Islam, namely Salafi-Jihadis.

 

Mehdi Hasan’s article “Extremists point to Western foreign policy  to explain their acts. Why do we ignore them?” contains both an appealing, and an uncomfortable message. Firstly for those wedded to interventionist positions, be it in Iraq and Afghanistan, or several of the foreign policy choices that have faced the coalition, the argument is discomfiting. A traditional principle of government is to provide for the security of its citizens. If intervening in Muslim majority countries, or reflexively supporting the United States or Israel undermines this, surely the Prime Minister has a duty to reconsider such policies?

There is little evidence such an approach is likely. David Cameron’s response to the In Amenas siege in Algeria was to talk of an existential struggle against terrorism that may last a generation, to pledge some supporting elements to France’s intervention in Mali, but to deny a parliamentary debate on the subject as British boots were not on the ground in the country. Such actions made a mockery of the democratic beliefs he claims to be upholding.

Mehdi Hasan’s arguments are also, in some quarters, very appealing. Britain’s many Muslim representative organisations have long complained of a political discourse that equates Islam per se with terrorism. Academic research of our print media in particular demonstrates the volume of negative media stories about Muslims. Both the British National Party and English Defence League sought to arrest declining influence post-Woolwich with rallies, whilst in several towns arrests were made after attacks on mosques.  The response of many on the left – from the Morning Star, Stop the War Coalition to Unite Against Fascism, has been to describe Woolwich as ‘the inevitable price of the war on terror’, and, after briefly condemning the murder, to quickly move on to concentrating solely on their original campaigns.

In such an atmosphere, many will miss the nuanced nature of Mehdi Hasan’s argument, which does not seek to blame all of our terrorist trends on our foreign policy, but does locate much of the blame there. This needs to not only be debated, but placed in significantly more context.

Woolwich in Context

We are now in the third decade of what may be referred to as British Jihadism – the involvement of a small, but not insignificant number of British Sunni Muslims (perhaps best described as Salafi-Jihadists) in armed struggle and/or bombings. These actors have appeared in areas as diverse as Bosnia, Kashmir, Afghanistan, Yemen, Pakistan, Israel, Iraq, Somalia, Sweden, Kenya, Libya and Syria, not forgetting attempts to blow up airliners flying to north America. At some stage, probably beginning with the jihadist plot uncovered in Birmingham in 2000, but occurring increasing significantly after 2003, the UK was added to this list of combat zones.

The Iraq invasion, as former head of MI5 Eliza Manningham-Buller states, sent domestic terrorist plots off the Richter scale. But is worth stressing how distinct these plots were. Iraq is a mostly Shia country, Shia are estimated to comprise anything from 10-15% of the UK Muslim population, yet they do not tend to appear in our terrorism arrests. Nor do other Muslim minorities – the Ismali section of Shi’ism or the Ahmadiyya’s seem immune to such trends. The hurt of our foreign policy was felt most onerously by certain, but by no means all, Salafis.

These plots tended to focus on the mass killing of civilians – something delivered on 7/7, but something that failed with, for example, the botched bombing of the Tiger Tiger bar in 2007. If Woolwich was different it is that rather than targeting a transport interchange or large venue selling alcohol, an off duty soldier was chosen, and civilians left to go about their business. Whether this reflects debates within Jihadist circles, and the wider estrangement killing civilians brought Al Qaeda from its base, remains to be seen.

Home and Away With Al-Muhajiroun

Following Woolwich, significant attention has again been focused on individuals around the over-interviewed Anjem Choudary. At least one of the alleged attackers, Michael Adebolajo, had publicly moved in these circles. Often referred to as al-Muhajiroun (even though this group was disbanded in 2004 and subsequently banned under the Terrorism Act) these activists have long provided a heady mixture of vigorous condemnation of British foreign policy with a politico-religious platform that centres around Islam having the answer to all the United Kingdom’s problems be they spiritual, legal, political, economic or ethical.
This duality is also displayed In terms of nomenclature. After al-Muhajiroun (the exiles, a reference to the Prophet and his companions being exiled to Medina from Mecca) – replacement names have included Muslims Against Crusades, Islam4UK, not to mention front groups such as the London School of Sharia. This translates into group activity combining these two poles – provocative anti-war stunts such as poppy burning and booing returning soldiers, or dawah stalls to convert non-believers to Islam, usually but not always in inner London.

Somewhat curiously a visit to the Home Office’s list of proscribed terrorist organisations finds al-Muhajiroun listed, not as a domestic terrorist group, but an international one. Its supporters have allegedly been responsible for something like a fifth of Islamist terrorist plots in the UK, and many of its members were born within sound of Bow Bells. One of its best known, Anthony Small, is a former British Light Middleweight boxing champion. What is so international about it?
When I challenged the Home Office about categorisation, via the Freedom of Information Act, I received a very woolly response that its focus was international because it campaigns for a caliphate. In this area at least, the government seems determined to have an international, rather than domestic focus.

There is much more to come out about Woolwich, but the snippets we have of the attackers invocations to Allah, followed by a desire to be filmed denouncing British policies in Muslim lands, are entirely consistent with al-Muhajiroun’s trajectory over many years.

The closing of debate

For some on the left, making reference to problematic trends within domestic Islam remains a no-no. Some anti-fascist organisations have grasped this nettle – the anarchists of Antifa were probably first, whilst the anti-fascist organisation Hope Not Hate, under the leadership of Nick Lowles, has returned to this subject repeatedly.
This remains a step too far for some on the revolutionary left, and broader organisations such as Unite against Fascism or the Stop the War Coalition. Here a condemnation of an attack such as Woolwich (or Toulouse, or 7/7) is quickly followed by a pivot into either opposition to the EDL/BNP or broader critiques of Western foreign policy. The Jihadists are then forgotten about, until the formula is repeated the next time. And the next.

The Broader Problems

It is entirely possible to imagine a Britain with a non-interventionist, quietist foreign policy, and yet still wrestling with some of the difficult minority strands in British Islam. Is it because of foreign policy that earnest young men in Tower Hamlets proclaimed gay free zones earlier this year to try to enforce, even for a few hours, their version of sharia? How do we explain the practice of segregated meetings being held by some Muslims at universities, often in defiance of clear guidance to the contrary by the host institutions? 
In some neighbouring countries it is not foreign policy but perceived or actual insults to Islam that have provoked the jihadists – to attempted murder in the case of Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard, murder in the Holland of Theo van Gogh. But we do not have to look abroad for politico-religious violence – in 2008 the publishers Gibson Square was firebombed for planning to publish a novel about the Prophet’s child bride. In 2010 RE teacher Gary Smith was battered for the ‘crime’ of teaching about Islam when he was not a Muslim. These actions, which combine a hyper-sensitivity to the practices of democratic society with a desire for sharia, right here, right now, are unlikely to dissipate quickly. If fighting for the Jihadist cause abroad is still going strong after three decades, why should fighting for these ideals at home end any quicker?

It is entirely conceivable the Woolwich attack was motivated by both an unwise, unsustainable and unjust foreign policy, and the beliefs predominant within minority elements of British Sunni  Islam, namely Salafi-Jihadis. That is an uncomfortable message – to those in government, those who oppose its foreign policy, and to Muslim representative organisations. But unless we open up debate on these issues, this society is guaranteed to experience groundhog day, not just in further terrorist attacks, but in the debates that follow them.

Paul Stott is an academic based at the University of East Anglia. He submits his PhD “British Jihadism: The Detail and the Denial” later this summer and tweets @MrPaulStott  

Michael Adebolajo, who is charged with the murder of Lee Rigby in Woolwich, arrives at court. Photograph: Getty Images
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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.