Primer on Jihadi Players in Algeria & Mali

Below is a primer I put together on the four main jihadist groups currently operating in Algeria and Mali for Jihadica, who have been kind enough to solicit and post my work from the past week. Fellow al-Wasat editor Aaron Zelin was kind enough to compile the 4-part series, and links to the original posts appear at the bottom of the post. 

The brazen assault and hostage taking in southern Algeria has brought about a sudden surge of interest in the region’s jihadist groups, especially given the complex history of the man reportedly behind the assault, Mokhtar Belmokhtar. This, in turn, has led to a good deal of questioning about Belmokhtar’s past, his “new” jihadist group, and the other militant groups currently occupying northern Mali. Here’s a quick explainer:

al-Qaida in the Islamic Maghreb

The best-known of the groups operating in northern Mali is almost certainly al-Qaida in the Islamic Maghreb, or AQIM, led by Abdelmalek Droukel (Abu Musab Abdelwadud). Renamed in 2007 after officially merging with al-Qaeda, AQIM was previously known as the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC in French), itself created in 1998 as a rejection of the brutal behavior and takfirist stance of the Algerian Armed Islamic Group (GIA in French). The GIA was the first Algerian jihadist group to send fighters (including Mokhtar Belmokhtar) to the Sahel, though it was the GSPC that first truly implanted itself in the region and in northern Mali in particular. There it recruited fighters, set up training camps, sowed deep ties with some local communities, got deeply involved in local and regional smuggling networks, and kidnapped foreigners for ransoms (the first such operation took place in southern Algeria in 2003). The GSPC also engaged in military activities, notably the 2005 attack on a Mauritanian military base in Leimgheity. Among the many young Mauritanians who joined the organization after police crackdowns in 2004 and 2005 was Younis al-Mauritani, who helped facilitate the GSPC’s merger with al-Qaeda in 2006 and was a key operational leader in al-Qaeda Core in Pakistan until his arrest in Quetta in 2011.

After a rush of deadly AQIM activity in northern Algeria in 2007 and 2008, Algerian authorities gained the upper hand and were progressively able to restrict AQIM to isolated and mountainous areas east of Algiers. AQIM’s kata’ib(battalions) in the Sahel, however, expanded, as Belmokhtar and Abdelhamid Abou Zeid (a senior AQIM commander) began a run of audacious kidnappings that led to an estimated tens of millions of dollars in ransom payments (more, according to some sources)–money reportedly bolstered by income from cigarette smuggling and taxes from the region’s growing drug trade. AQIM’s southern groups, believed before 2012 to number several hundred fighters, also continued operations across the region, killing tourists, conducting attacks (including suicide bombings) against regional and foreign militaries and government facilities. AQIM fighters are believed to have been heavily involved in fighting in northern Mali after the outbreak of the Tuareg rebellion in January 2012, and have largely controlled the city of Timbuktu since April.

AQIM has for years enjoyed good relationships with some local populations, having strengthened its roots in northern Mali through marriage and business ties. Recently the group announced the creation of a new battalion to be led by a Tuareg, as part of a larger rearrangement of personnel and leadership. The battalion is said to be leading the fighting under the command of Abou Zeid around the town of Diabaly against Malian and French troops. AQIM holds 7 foreign hostages.

Belmokhtar and Those Who Sign with Blood

The man allegedly behind the gas facility attack, Mokhtar Belmokhtar, had, until recently, run AQIM’s Katibat al-Moulathimin (“The Veiled Brigade”), a reference to the practice of male veiling common in parts of the Sahel.  In October 2012 AQIM stated that Belmokhtar had been “suspended” from the command of the group, owing to Belmokhtar’s supposed deviations from the goals of the group’s leadership. Belmokhtar was purportedly at loggerheads with three AQIM leaders: AQIM’s amir Droukdel, the recently-appointed Saharan emir Yahya Abou el-Hammam, and Katibat Tariq Ibn Ziad commander Abou Zeid.

Belmokhtar’s spokesman denied the removal but in December Belmokhtar appeared on video for the first time to announce his departure* from AQIM and his creation of a new group, al-Mouwakoune Bi-Dima (“Those Who Sign with Blood”), a reference to the name of the GIA detachment responsible for the 1994 hijacking of an Air France flight. In his video, Belmokhtar said his group aimed to consolidate shari’ah in northern Mali. He also threatened to attack Algeria and France and called on Mauritanian imams to come to the aid of the “Azawad,” a term used largely (but not exclusively) by Tuareg nationalists to refer to northern Mali.

In an interview with the Associated Press, Belmokhtar’s close associate Oumar Ould Hamaha relayed that Belmokhtar remained under the orders of al-Qaeda central. Moreover, the “split” with AQIM does not appear to have inhibited Belmokhtar’s actions; by all available indications he took his fighters with him to his “new” group, and they have reportedly been working alongside jihadist MUJAO group in Gao and in In Khalil (more on them tomorrow). In telephone calls with journalists during the current hostage crisis, jihadis involved in the attack said they were from “al-Qaeda” before specifying their membership in al-Moulathimin and al-Mouakoune Bi-Dima. They further conveyed that the operation had been in the works for two months, suggesting that the supposed internal turmoil in AQIM did not adversely affect the complicated preparations for a major assault staged hundreds of miles away from northern Mali.

Algerian security officials said they took at least one member of the attack team alive, meaning that we may find out more about the group’s structure in the coming days and weeks. We do know that the attack team involved at least two longtime Belmokhtar aides, Abu al-Bara and Aberrahman al-Nigeri, and reports indicate that the hostage takers included Egyptians, Tunisians, Libyans, as well as possibly a Frenchman and a Canadian.

*CORRECTION: In the video, Belmokhtar does not actually announce a departure from AQIM, only the creation of al-Mouakoune Bi-Dima. Instead, the talk of a “split” came from press accounts, including an Associated Press interview with close Belmokhtar associate Omar Ould Hamaha (h/t @GCTAT on Twitter).

Movement for Tawhid and Jihad in West Africa

The Movement for Tawhid and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO, in French) is an AQIM splinter group that publicly appeared in December 2011, when they claimed the kidnapping of three European aid workers in Tindouf, Algeria. Led by the Mauritanian Hamada Ould Kheiru*, an explosives expert, preacher, and longtime GSPC/AQIM member close to Belmokhtar, the group’s stated reason for leaving AQIM was the latter’s purported lack of devotion to jihad and failure to promote non-Algerians to leadership positions.

Ostensibly dedicated to propagating jihad in West Africa, the group’s leadership was originally believed to be largely composed of Mauritanians and Arabs from the Gao region, though recent announcements indicate that the leadership has diversified to include a Saudi, an Egyptian, and a Tunisian, as well as other “foreign fighters”. The group has also reportedly recruited from local populations and some sub-Saharan Africans.

MUJAO, which controls the Malian city of Gao, benefits from a close relationship with Mokhtar Belmokhtar, whose forces fought with and may have led MUJAO’s successful military attacks against the Tuareg nationalist group the MNLA in Gao in June, and in Ménaka in November. MUJAO and Belmokhtar’s Katibat al-Mulathimeen (Battalion of the Veiled Men) seized the infamous smuggling town of In Khalil (sometimes written as al-Khalil) in late December, and are reportedly involved in the current Islamist offensive in central Mali.

One of the MUJAO’s key military leaders, spokesmen, and favorite quote machine for Western journalists, Omar Ould Hamaha, was a commander under Belmokhtar and was identified for a time as the military commander of Ansar al-Din. Hamaha is also, according to some reports, Belmokhtar’s father-in-law.

While rumors abound that MUJAO receives support from local businessmen and known traffickers, in addition to foreign governments, MUJAO has also made an extensive effort to portray itself as a “true” jihadist organization by instituting hudud punishments in and around Gao, conducting attacks against foreign targets, and adopting a media strategy that includes a web forum, a Facebook page, a Twitter account, and battalion names recalling past Muslim leaders, famous jihadist figures, and also a local Muslim organization.

Despite its stated focus on West Africa, MUJAO has conducted 4 operations (including two suicide bombings) in Algeria or against Algerian targets, in addition to the kidnapping of 7 Algerian diplomats from the Algerian consulate in the northern Malian city of Gao. MUJAO currently holds 3 of the 7–after releasing three and killing one–and one French-Portuguese hostage kidnapped in November.

* While some sources indicate that Kheiru founded MUJAO in cooperation with other “dissident” AQIM members, this explanation is not universal. For instance, Mauritanian journalist Mohamed Mahmoud Abu al-Ma’ali, who published a lengthy analysis in May of the various jihadist groups occupying northern Mali, says that the group was founded by the businessman, smuggler, and AQIM member Sultan Ould Bady, with Kheiru subsequently joining the group. Regardless, both were represented as key leaders of the group until recently, when Ould Bady purportedly left MUJAO to join Ansar al-Din. In December the United States Department of State referred to Kheiru (written as Khairy) as a “founding leader” of MUJAO alongside Ahmed el-Tilemsi, when the State Department designated MUJAO a terrorist organization and applied sanctions to Kheiru and Tilemsi (but no other MUJAO leaders).

Ansar al-Din

Ansar al-Din was created in November 2011 by Iyad Ag Ghali, a legendary Tuareg powerbroker in northern Mali who led two rebellions against the Malian government in the 1990′s and in 2006. According to journalistic accounts as well as scholarly writing, Ag Ghali grew increasingly religious and joined the Tablighi Jamaat, the Pakistani Islamic missionary organization known for its piety as well as quietist political views. However, Ag Ghali at some point moved away from the group, and in 2010 Saudi authorities expelled him from his diplomatic post in Jeddah due to suspected contacts with unknown radicals.

Various sources claim that Ag Ghali only founded Ansar al-Din after failing in his efforts to become the leader of the MNLA and of the Ifoghas Tuareg tribe, though as far as I can tell these claims all come from sources close to or within the MNLA.  Initially composed of veteran rebels from the same tribe (and in many cases the same clan), Ag Ghali’s ranks were swollen in early 2012 by the addition of at least 40 AQIM fighters brought by his cousin, an AQIM commander named Hamada Ag Hama (commonly known as Abdelkrim el-Targui).

Ansar al-Din played a key role in fighting the Malian army in Aguelhoc (where nearly 100 Malian soldiers were reportedly executed), Tessalit, and Kidal. After the March 2012 coup and the departure of the Malian army from the north, Ansar al-Din took responsibility for the cities of Kidal and Timbuktu. At least one “Ansar al-Din” leader in Timbuktu, Sanda Ould Boumama (Sanda Abou Mohamed), was a suspected GSPC and AQIM member, and AQIM is largely believed to have exerted real control over the city.

Various Tuareg Ansar al-Din leaders and spokesmen engaged in negotiations in Burkina Faso and Algeria, and Ag Ghali himself endorsed mediation efforts to achieve a political solution to the Malian crisis. Nevertheless, the group’s leadership appears to be divided and has made contradictory remarks about the group’s goals, in particular where they sought to apply shari’ah (in Kidal? In northern Mali? In all of Mali? Across West Africa?). Ag Ghali himself put an end to the ambiguity when he announced the end of a ceasefire in January 2013, and then led an advance of Islamist forces into central Mali on January 10. This in turn prompted the French intervention in Mali the following day.

Original Posts:

Part 1- http://www.jihadica.com/primer-on-jihadi-players-in-algeria-and-mali-pt-1-aqim/

Part 2- http://www.jihadica.com/primer-on-jihadi-players-in-algeria-and-mali-pt-2-belmokhtar-those-who-sign-with-blood/

Part 3- http://www.jihadica.com/primer-on-jihadi-players-in-algeria-and-mali-pt-3-movement-for-tawhid-and-jihad-in-west-africa/ 

Part 4- http://www.jihadica.com/primer-on-jihadi-players-in-algeria-and-mali-pt-4-final-ansar-al-din/

The Syrian Islamic Front’s Order of Battle

The second half of 2012 saw the radicalization of the Syrian rebel opposition. What started as a mainly secular force with the creation of the Free Syrian Army (FSA) slowly fragmented into Islamist cleavages with groups like Suqur al-Sham, Kata’ib Ahrar al-Sham, Jabhat al-Nusra, among others fighting independently outside the banner of the FSA. While much due attention has been given to Jabhat al-Nusra, which was designated as a terrorist organization by the United States in early December, little has been discussed on another popular Salafi-jihadi group: Kata’ib Ahrar al-Sham (KAS). On December 21, it announced the creation of a new fighting force that brought together small jihadi factions under the banner of the Syrian Islamic Front (SIF).

In the statement and video message the SIF released, which was read out by its official spokesman Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Suri, it proclaimed that it followed the way of the salaf (pious predecessor – Muhammad, his companions, and the two generations afterward), planned to topple the Assad regime and its allies, and then institute its interpretation of sharia, which it believes will be just. The post-Assad institutions according to al-Suri would include political, da’wa (Islamic advocacy), cultural education, and humanitarian relief structures.

The new front is made up of the following fighting forces: Kata’ib Ahrar al-Sham in all the Syrian provinces, Liwa’ al-Haqq in Homs; Harakat al-Fajr al-Islamiyyah in Aleppo and rural areas; Jama’at al-Tali’ah al-Islamiyyah in the rural areas of Idlib; Kata’ib Ansar ash-Sham in Ladhakiya and its rural areas; Katibat Mus’ab bin ‘Umayr in the rural areas of Aleppo; Jaysh at-Tawhid in Dayr al-Zur; Katibat Suqur al-Islam; Kata’ib al-Iman al-Muqatilah; Saraya al-Maham al-Khasa; and Katibat Hamzah bin ‘Abd al-Mutalib in Damascus and its rural areas.

At the end of the statement, SIF emphasizes that it is open to other Islamist organizations joining their cause. Afterward, the video announcement continued by showing their fighters in action in Damascus, Homs, Hama, Idlib, Aleppo, and Deir al-Zour, among other places. Since then SIF along with Jabhat al-Nusra has been at the forefront of some of the key battles including the recent one at the Taftanaz airport.

In the latter half of the video, SIF shows off its humanitarian relief efforts by paving new or clearing old road ways, baking bread for the needy (which is exceedingly becoming many in some areas due to the brutality of the Assad regime and lack of local capabilities) as well as other food like corn, candy, and chips. In other soft power efforts, the SIF has also held Qur’anic recitation contests for children. The video also highlights who helps fund these efforts: the SIF is getting the aid from Turkey and Qatar, more specifically, the government-linked NGOs of the IHH (which has links to the American designated terrorist organization HAMAS) and the Qatar Charity Organization.

Below you will find the order of battle for the Syrian Islamic Front:

Syrian Islamic Front:

Kata’ib Ahrar al-Sham

Damascus and Its Countryside
Katibat Jund ash-Sham (كـتـيـبـة جند الشام)
al-Zubayr bin al-‘Awam (الزبير بن العوام)
Katibat Fajr ash-Sham (كتيبة فجر الشام)
Katibat Fajr al-Islam (كــتــيبة فجر الإسلام)
Katibat Hadhifah bin al-Iman (كتيبة حذيفة بن اليمان)
Katibat Zayd bin Thabit (كتيبة زيد بن ثابت)
Katibat ‘Abd Allah bin Salam (كتيبة عبد الله بن سلام)
Katibat Muhammad bin Muslimah (كتيبة محمد بن مسلمة)

The Coast
Katibat Nusur al-Sahil (كتيبة نسور الساحل)
Katibat ‘Abadah al-Samit (كتيبة عبادة بن الصامت)
Katibat Nusrah al-Madhlum (كتيبة نصرة المظلوم)
Katibat Ibn Taymiyyah (كتيبة ابن تيمية)

Aleppo and Its Countryside
Katibat al-Shuhaba’ (كتيبة الشـــــــــــهباء)
Katibat Ansar al-Haqq (كتيبة أنصار الحق)
Katibat Burj al-Islam (كتيبة برج الإسلام)
‘Amar bin Yasir (عمار بن ياسر)
Katibat Hasan bin Thabit (كتيبة حسان بن ثابت)

Liwa’ al-Iman
Katibat Abu al-Fida’ (كتيبة أبي الفداء)
Katibat Salah ad-Din (كتيبة صلاح الدين)
Katibat Abu ‘Ubaydah ‘Amar bin al-Jarah (كتيبة أبو عبيدة عامر بن الجراح)
Katibat ‘Amad ad-Din Zanki (كتيبة عماد الدين زنكي)
Katibat al-Hamzah bin ‘Abd al-Mutalib (كتيبة الحمزة بن عبد المطلب)
Katibat al-Zubayr bin al-‘Awam (كتيبة الزبير بن العوام)
Katibat al-Bara’ bin ‘Azib (كتيبة البراء بن عازب)
Katibat Shuhada’ al-‘Arbayyin (كتيبة شهداء الأربعين)
Katibat al-Mulazim Awal Ra’id Muqalid (كتيبة الملازم أول رائد مقلد)
Katibat Tariq bin Zayad (كتيبة طارق بن زياد)
Katibat al-Fatihin (كتيبة الفاتحين)
Katibat Abna’ al-Islam (كتيبة أبناء الإسلام)
Katibat al-Furqan (كتيبة الفرقان)
Katibat al-Qa’qa’ (كتيبة القعقاع)

Homs and Its Countryside
Katibat Junud ar-Rahman (كتيبة جنود الرحمن)
Katibat al-Hamra’ (الكتيبة الحمراء)
Katibat Ansar al-Sunnah wa-l-Shari’ah (كتيبة أنصار السنة والشريعة)
Katibat ‘Adnan ‘Aqalah (كتيبة عدنان عقلة)
Katibat ‘Abad Allah (كتيبة عباد الله)

al-Ghab (Hama)
Katibat al-Sayyidah ‘A’ishah (كتيبة السيدة عائشة)
Katibat ‘Uthman bin ‘Afan (كتيبة عثمان بن عفان)
Katibat ‘Ali bin Abu Talib (كتيبة علي بن أبي طالب)
Ahrar Jiblah (أحرار جبلة)
Katibat ‘Umar bin Khatab (كتيبة عمر بن الخطاب)
Katibat Abu Bakr as-Sadiq (كتيبة أبو بكر الصديق)
Katibat Qawafil al-Shuhada’ (كتيبة قوافل الشهداء)
Katibat Ansar al-Haqq (كتيبة أنصار الحق)

Ariha and the Mountains
Katibat ‘Abad ar-Rahman (كتيبة عباد الرحمن)
Fuwaris al-Sunnah (فوارس السنّة)
Katibat Rijal Allah (كتيبة رجال الله)
Katibat Abu Dujanah (كتيبة أبو دجانة)
Katibat al-Sariyyat al-Jabal (كتيبة سارية الجبل)

Northern Idlib
Katibat Ajnad ash-Sham (كتيبة أجناد الشام)
Katibat Abu Talhah al-Ansari (كتيبة أبو طلحة الأنصاري)
Katibat Jabar bin ‘Abd Allah (كتيبة جابر بن عبد الله)
Katibat Sa’id bin Zayid (كتيبة سعيد بن زيد)
Katibat Sa’d bin Mu’az (كتيبة سعد بن معاذ)
Katibat Ahfad ‘Ali bin Abu Talib (كتيبة أحفاد علي بن أبي طالب)
Abu Darda’ (أبو الدرداء)
Ahbab al-Rasul (أحباب الرسول)
Katibat al-Khadra’ (الكتيبة الخضراء)

Southeastern Idlib
Katibat ‘Abd Allag bin ‘Umar (كتيبة عبد الله بن عمر)
Katibat al-Aqsa (كتيبة الأقصى)
Katibat al-Mujahidin (كتيبة المجاهدين)
Katibat at-Tawhid wa-l-Iman (كتيبة التوحيد والإيمان)
Bayyariq al-Islam (بيارق الإسلام)
Siham al-Layl (سهام الليل)
Katibat al-Husayn (كتيبة الحسين)
Katibat al-Qa’qa’ (كتيبة القعقاع)
Katibat al-Ansar (كتيبة الأنصار)
Katibat al-Ansar (كتيبة الفرقان)
Katibat al-Ahwaz (كتيبة الأحواز)
Katibat al-Riyyah al-Jinah (كتيبة رياح الجنّة)
Katibat Khalid bin al-Walid (كتيبة خالد بن الوليد)
al-Kharsa’ (الخرساء)
al-Murabitin ‘Ala ad-Din (المرابطين على الدين)
Katibat Hamzah Sayyid al-Shuhada’ (كتيبة حمزة سيد الشهداء)
Katibat al-Shahid Yusuf Yasin (كتيبة الشهيد يوسف ياسين)

Dara’a
Katibat al-Yarmuk (كتيبة اليرموك)

al-Jazirah (Northeastern Syria)
Katibat al-Miqdad bin al-Aswad (كتيبة المقداد بن الأسود)
Katibat Ahrar al-Jazirah (كتيبة أحرار الجزيرة)
Katibat Tal Hamis (كتيبة تل حميس)
Katibat al-Qadisiyyah (كتيبة القادسية)
Abu Muhajir (أبو مهاجر)
Musa bin Nasir (موسى بن نصير)
Katibat ‘Ali bin Abu Talib (كتيبة علي بن أبي طالب)

Harakat al-Fajr al-Islamiyyah

Aleppo
Katibat Sayyuf al-Sunnah (كتيبة سيوف السنة)
Katibat Abu al-Zubayr (كتيبة أبو الزبير)
Katibat Jund ar-Rahman (كتيبة جند الرحمن)
Katibat al-‘Abas (كتيبة العباس)
Sarayah Hudhayfah bin al-Yaman (سرية حذيفة بن اليمان)
Katibat Zayat al-Haq (كتيبة رايات الحق)

Northern Aleppo Countryside
Katibat Abu Hudhayfah (كتيبة أبو حذيفة)
Katibat Dhia’ al-Islam (كتيبة ضياء الإسلام)
Katibat al-Alqsa (كتيبة الأقصى)
Sarayah Abu ‘Abd Allah Li-l-Maham al-Khasah (سرية أبو عبدالله للمهام الخاصة)

Eastern Aleppo Countryside
Tajama’a Jund al-Islam (تجمع جند الإسلام)

Western Aleppo Countryside
Katibat Abu al-Islam (كتيبة أبو إسلام)
Katibat Nusibah al-Ansariyyah (كتيبة نُسيبة الأنصارية)
Katibat Abu Hasan (كتيبة أبو الحسن)
Katibat ‘Az ash-Sham (كتيبة عزّ الشام)

Rural Idlib
Katibat al-Bara’ bin Malik (كتيبة البراء بن مالك)
Katibat Suqur al-Sunnah (كتيبة صقور السنّة)
Katibat Sayuf Allah (كتيبة سيوف الله)
Katibat Rijal al-Haq (كتيبة رجال الحق)

Ansar ash-Sham

Ladhakiyyah
Katibat Zayid bin Harith (كتيبة زيد بن حارثة)
Katibat Suqur al-Ladhakiyyah (كتيبة صقور اللاذقية)
Katiat Asad al-Sunnah (كتيبة أسد السنة)
Katibat Sayyuf al-Islam (كتيبة سيف الاسلام)
Katibat Salah ad-Din (كتيبة صلاح الدين)
Katibat at-Tawhid (كتيبة التوحـيـد)
Katibat al-Qawat al-Khasah (كتيبة القوات الخاصة)
Katibat al-Shuhada’ (كتيبة الشهداء)
Katibat Jawhar al-Dudayyif (كتيبة جوهر دودايف)
Katibat Ahfad Muhammad al-Fatih (كتيبة أحفاد محمد الفاتح)
Katibat Abu ‘Ubaydah al-Jarah (كتيبة ابو عبيدة الجراح)

Jisr al-Shughur
Katibat ‘Umar bin Khatab (كتيبة عمر بن الخطاب)

Idlib
Katibat ‘A’ishah Um al-Mu’minin (كتيبة عائشة أم المؤمنين)
Katibat Mus’ab bin ‘Amir (كتيبة مصعب بن عمي)

Rural Aleppo
Katibat Saraya al-Majad (كتيبة سرايا المجد)

Liwa’ al-Haqq

Katibat al-Saqiq (كتيبة الصديق)
Katibat al-Furati (كتيبة الفراتي)
Katibat al-Huda (كتيبة الهدى)
Katibat al-Nasir Li-Din Allah (كتيبة الناصر لدين الله)
Katibat Siba’ al-Bar (كتيبة سباع البر)
Katibat Shuhada’ Baba ‘Umru (كتيبة شهداء بابا عمرو)
Katibat Atba’ al-Rasul (كتيبة أتباع الرسول)
Katibat al-Ansar (كتيبة الأنصار)
Katibat al-Bara’ (كتائب البراء)
Katibat al-Bara’ bin Malik (كتيبة البراء بن مالك)

Jaysh at-Tawhid

Liwa’ Tariq bin Zayad (لواء طارق بن زياد)
Katibat Abu Qasim (كتيبة أبو القاسم)
Katibat Ahbab al-Mustafa (كتيبة أحباب المصطفى)
Katibat Yazid bin Ma’wayah (كتيبة يزيد بن معاوية)
Katibat ‘A’ishah Um al-Mu’minin (كتيبة عائـــشة أم المؤمنين)
Katibat al-Rahbah (كتيبة الرحبة)
Liwa’ al-Mansur (لواء المنصور)

Jama’at al-Tali’ah al-Islamiyyah

Katibat Ahmad ‘Asaf (كتيبة أحمد عساف)
Katibat Shuhada’ (كتيبة شهداء)
Saraya Ahmad Yasin (سرية أحمد ياسين)
Katibat al-Sawarikh (كتيبة الصورايخ)
Katibat al-Ansar (كتيبة الأنصار في بنش)

Katibat Mus’ab bin ‘Umar

Suqur al-Islam

Kata’ib al-Iman al-Muqatilah

Katibat Hamzah bin ‘Abd al-Mutalib

The Ghosts of Sinjar in Tripoli and Benghazi

A month ago, Ansar al-Shari’ah in Benghazi (The Supporters of Islamic Law; ASB), on its official Facebook page via its official media outlet al-Rayyah Foundation for Media Production uploaded a poster (see above) promoting a demonstration on Sunday December 16 in Tripoli and Benghazi. The demonstration is in support of Libyans currently imprisoned in Iraq. In the past few months there have been other protests in support of Libyans in Iraq, too. Similarly, Ansar al-Shari’ah in Tunisia (AST) has also held demonstrations in the past for Tunisians that are imprisoned in Iraq. What’s fascinating in this case is that the promotional poster contains names of ten individuals. At the suggestion of the blogger/tweeter that goes by the name of Around the Green Mountain I cross-checked these names with the Sinjar Records to see if there were any matches.

For background on the Sinjar Records see the Combating Terrorism Center’s description in their report that first analyzed these records: “In November 2007, the Combating Terrorism Center at West Point received nearly 700 records of foreign nationals that entered Iraq between August 2006 and August 2007 … The records contain varying levels of information on each fighter, but often include the fighter’s country of origin, hometown, age, occupation, the name of the fighter’s recruiter, and even the route the fighter took to Iraq.  The records were captured by coalition forces in October 2007 in a raid near Sinjar, along Iraq’s Syrian border.”

When the raw data was checked, four out of the ten names were a match (or had a part of the name): ‘Adil Jum’ah Muhammad al-Sha’lali, ‘Ali ‘Uthman Hamad al-‘Arfi, Hamzah ‘Ali ‘Awad, and Muhammad Saqr Muhammad. Some information about them:

• All created their own kunyas: Abu ‘Umar, Abu Umar, Abu al-Qa’qa, Abu Hudayfah (listed in same order as regular names above)
• Three were from Darnah while the other did not list a city of origin;
• Three listed date of birth: 1981, 1982, and 1985;
• Two of them mentioned when they arrived in Iraq: October 2006;
• The same two brought with them 500 and 300 lira respectively;
• And a different set of two of them stated the work they wanted when joining the Islamic State of Iraq: martyr (which has not obviously come to fruition yet)

Two of the individuals also contained pictures in their Sinjar application for the Islamic State of Iraq. Below, you can see a comparison of the application photo from 2006 on the left and what I am assuming is a relatively recent photo of the same individual in Iraqi custody, which is from the above flier. There are slight differences due to aging and likely poor conditions in Iraqi prisons and the second picture looks closer in similarity to the before and after than the first one. For those reading, what do you think (leave a comment below)?

‘Ali ‘Uthman Hamad al-‘Arfi: Joining the ISI (left) and During Iraqi Imprisonment (right) 

Hamzah ‘Ali ‘Awad: Joining the ISI (left) and During Iraqi Imprisonment (right)

It is likely that the other six individuals that ASB is calling for their release were also fighters in the Islamic State of Iraq, but joined at a different time period or were not part of the registration/orientation in Sinjar. Reports from the official Libyan news agency LANA suggest that after the most recent protests, Baghdad has been in negotiation with Tripoli to return the prisoners and have them serve out their time in Libya. Based on the current security dynamic in Libya, if these prisoners, among others I’m sure, are returned can their sentences in prison be preserved? There is a good chance that due to the unstable nature swirling in the country that these individuals could be broken out of jail or even worse are let free once back on Libyan soil due to the weakness of the government in the face of Islamist militias. Time will of course tell.

The above highlights that although some parts of the history of the jihadi movement and US understanding/interaction with these sources seems somewhat dated, as Leah Farrall always notes ‘what’s old is new again.’ In other words, trends/older players return to the fore even if forgotten by analysts. This is especially the case in the post-Arab uprising societies where individuals from the 1990s scene have once again gotten back on the stage. All of this of course illustrates the importance in understanding the history, context, and evolution of the jihadi movement. Only focusing narrowly on the most recent developments will rob many of appreciating how and why events are occurring or repeating themselves.

Militancy and Ethnic Politics in Northern Mali

For those of you who are interested, I’ve just published my first piece at Think Africa Press, on how militant groups in northern Mali use local ethnic politics to their advantage. Here’s an excerpt:

Yet it is not just the militias aiming to retake the north that have their eye on Mali’s ethnic fault lines. On November 24, the jihadist forum Ansar al-Mujahideen published a statement in Arabic by the ‘Majlis Shura al-Mujahidin in Gao’ following the outbreak of fighting in Gao between the MNLA and the Movement for Oneness and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO), a splinter group of al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM). This fighting, which broke out on November 16 near Ansongo and Ménaka, appears to have ended in defeat for the MNLA in the movement’s last major stronghold. While both sides and third parties have given dramatically different tolls from the fighting, witnesses and town notables have indicated that MUJAO forces executed some of those involved in defending the town, including the president of the local cercle, Alwabégat Ag Salakatou.

In the forum statement, the ‘Majlis Shura al-Mujahidin’ – indicating the leadership council for MUJAO, whom Gao inhabitants generally refer to simply as “the mujahidin” – justified their combat against the MNLA, saying in an English translation posted several days later by the Ansar al-Mujahideen English Forum: “we [are] in our war with the MNLA (National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad) this secular movement that doesn’t want the implementation of the Islamic Sharia…the mujahidin fought it because they became like the Tawagit [tyrants]”. It continued: “we call them to resort to the Sharia [law] of Allah but they refuse” and claimed the MNLA was oppressing Muslims “by taking their money unjustly and killing them and their dividing of the Muslims”.

 

What to Make of Foreign Fighters in Mali

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the lexicon of modern analysis of terrorism and insurgency, the term “foreign fighter” has a particular power. The presence or suspicion of foreign fighters in a conflict zone, whether true or not, implies for many a increase in seriousness and scope of a conflict. Particularly after the war in Iraq, and the hard evidence of foreign fighter recruitment and networks found at places like Sinjar, reports about foreign fighters carried with them a risk of increased technical proficiency in central conflict zones that could then radiate outward after these fighters — if they survive — return home.

Sometimes these reports of foreign fighters can be overplayed or the impact of these fighters greatly exaggerated, as my colleague Alex Thurston pointed out to me earlier this month weekend when we went to Gainesville to speak at the Center for African Studies at the University of Florida. The discussion arose after an Agence France-Presse (AFP) report claimed that up to 150 fighters, largely composed of Sudanese and Sahraouis from Tindouf in Algeria or the Western Sahara, had very recently traveled to Timbuktu and Gao. Other reports suggested an influx of Egyptians and Tunisians, especially in Gao, while a spokesman for the Movement for Tawhid and Jihad in West Africa (often shortened to MUJWA in English or MUJAO in French) stated that, “They want war, we’ll give them war. This is why our brothers are joining us from all over…They are coming from the camps of Tindouf in Algeria, from Senegal, from Ivory Coast, from everywhere.”

This news came on the heels of reports that several Westerners, including French citizens, had attempted to or successfully joined AQIM or other militant groups in Mali. One of these French AQIM members, a convert to Islam from Bretagne (Brittany) named Abdel Jellil who has lived for the past two years in Timbuktu, even made a video giving some of his personal history and threatening France, the UN, and the United States not to intervene in Mali. These reports certainly have gotten the attention of French intelligence, but have more broadly helped spread fears of a new “Malistan” that could attract jihadists to the Sahel, with negative consequences for the region and possibly even Europe.

So, how do we go about analyzing these various reports?

For one thing, these reports are hardly new; AQIM has been recruiting non-Algerians for years, though it is only more recently that its leadership has diversified to include non-Algerians. Some analysts believe that tension between non-Algerians and the group’s Algerian leadership prompted MUJWA to break off from AQIM, though as I’ve noted before I am unsure of the extent to which the division of these groups represented a true schism, rather than a somewhat less hostile separation. And though in recent months this recruitment appears to have picked up, including not just a number of North and West Africans but also purportedly Pakistanis and others, it is not a sudden phenomenon.

Additionally, it is incredibly difficult to ascertain what exactly is going on in northern Mali, making it challenging to get a clear picture about foreign fighters in the north, whether discussing nationalities or numbers. While it seems clear from various witness reports that accounts of foreign fighters, and even the recent entry of foreign fighters, is not simply a feedback loop, some reports put the number of new entrants into northern Mali far lower than others, while both the Tuareg National Movement for the Liberation of the Azawad (MNLA) and Ansar Al-Din have denied that the influx of fighters took place at all — though both groups have their own reasons for denying the reports, and Ansar Al-Din in Timbuktu spokesman Sanda Ould Boumama’s already weak denials have become less convincing the more people asked. But these divergences highlight the confusion that can arise in an environment with few journalists (unlike, say, Syria), high danger, and a reliance on impossible to confirm local reports.

And finally, we should be cautious of other political agendas that can worm their way forward in reporting about terrorism issues. Despite reports only indicating that some fighters may have come from Tindouf in Algeria or the Western Sahara, pro-Moroccan press outlets or writers quickly spun that to claim that it was the Polisario that had “sent” fighters to northern Mali, or to only highlight that fighters came from Tindouf, rather than allowing the possibility that Sahraouis may have traveled to northern Mali from several places, including Moroccan-controlled Western Sahara. Regardless, the point is that for some, news of foreign fighters immediately became just another political football, a chance to lash out at opponents instead of focusing on other issues.

What does this mean for Mali?

The first thing to note is that it appears that recruiting networks to the Sahel, and particuarly (but not exclusively) AQIM, have shifted recently. Again, while AQIM has for years been recruiting in sub-Saharan Africa, it is interesting that previously, most analysts regarded AQIM, in northern Algeria as well as the Sahel as having broadly failed to recruit extensively among other North Africans and Europeans. While the organization had links to other Maghrebi jihadist groups and cells of varying capacity, AQIM never approached one of its stated goals, to unify the region’s militant groups into one organization. However, if the anecdotal evidence about Tunisians and Egyptians in particular is true, it could be a sign that northern Mali is becoming more attractive  for other jihadists, something that I would attribute at least in part to the very public application of shari’ah that has earned Mali’s Islamist groups international condemnation. The same is true for French fighters, whose small but growing presence in Mali is a change from recent years, where the vast majority of recruits seem to have been drawn to Pakistan’s tribal areas.

While this is largely speculation, I suspect that the opportunity to implement shari’ah, in addition to visual proof of its implementation, has drawn some fighters in while dispelling for others lingering suspicions about AQIM in particular. Additionally, the ability of AQIM, MUJWA, and Ansar Al-Din to operate openly and uncontested over a vast area of Mali, including northern Mali’s three main cities, has undoubtedly made it easier to reach and join these groups, though it remains extremely difficult for potential fighters to get to Mali in the first place, especially with the international attention focused on the country.

More interesting, however, is what these foreign fighter inflows may indicate about militant groups’ strategies in the face of a possible intervention in northern Mali. Based on discussions and observations, it appears that a number of countries particularly in ECOWAS, seem to have thought until recently that an intervention in northern Mali would be relatively easy. This despite the fact that intervention’s biggest booster, France, has recently acknowledged that an intervention would in fact be “difficult” and would require “hardened troops.” Still, it appears that by at least threatening intervention, some groups believed to represent a more localized or Malian militancy, namely Iyad Ag Ghali and Ansar Al-Din but also the MNLA, could be induced to separate from AQIM and MUJWA and seek negotiations. According to this thinking, the more hardline “terrorists” and “drug traffickers” in these groups could then be marginalized, isolated, and more easily targeted.

While this plan has potential to at least disaggregate the various militant groups in northern Mali, it does not take into account the plans these groups have already made for their own defense. Recent accounts have discussed efforts undertaken by Ansar Al-Din as well as MUJWA to disperse forces, with a “psychosis” reportedly taking hold in Kidal, leaders fleeing to Algeria or to the brush, others leaving Ansar Al-Din altogether, and MUJWA closing off some quarters of Gao and bringing people into the city’s center to purportedly use as “human shields.” Ansar Al-Din in Timbuktu (which I and others believe to largely be composed of AQIM members) and MUJWA in Gao and Douentza have also reportedly dispersed their forces, while concentrating “local” recruits inside the cities.

These movements can be interpreted as a reaction to the growing threat of a foreign intervention in Mali, and the reports of growing concern, confusion, and fear among northern Mali’s militant groups appear credible. Yet we should not assume that concern over intervention or dispersing forces means that the diverse forces arrayed across northern Mali will simply pack up and leave in the event of an intervention. After all, these groups have known for some time that an intervention could happen, as ECOWAS and France have been threatening such a move for months, even if the contours of such an operation appear to be ploddingly taking shape and more countries possibly coming on board for some type of military operation in Mali. MUJWA, for instance, has reportedly been keeping the bulk of its military forces at least 15 km outside of Gao since at least August, in anticipation of possible strikes.

This is where northern Mali’s new, foreign recruits come in. While the skills and capacity of foreign fighters in northern Mali is unclear — are they experienced? Novices? Trainers? — they may represent more than simply “reinforcements” or replacements for fighters who have left Ansar Al-Din, AQIM, or MUJWA. Instead, these fighters, whatever their numbers, represent another example of these militant groups showing a desire to dig in, and even set down roots in the north. For months now, these groups (especially MUJWA) have spent rather significant amounts of money on paying fighters, keeping down the price of food and other goods, and providing some level of services, like electricity free of charge. They’ve also taken steps like initiating meetings with local leaders to discuss governance, as Ansar Al-Din’s Sanda Ould Boumama recently did in Timbuktu.

In this context, foreign fighters could present a more solid kind of support than local troops, given that they have likely not traversed dangerous and bleak terrain, only to arrive at a place and leave at the threat of military attack. This does not mean that Islamist militant groups in Mali will not pursue other actions, whether extending current dispersal efforts, fleeing into other parts of the north’s hinterlands, or even heading to other countries in search of shelter. This fragmentation and separation may be more likely to occur if, as some reports have suggested, a struggle for leadership is taking place between factions of AQIM and MUJWA. And this is where the number and skill of fighters comes into play in terms of impacting the ability of militant groups to maneuver, defend territory, or otherwise ensnare ECOWAS troops on unfamiliar territory. But insofar as recent reports indicate a willingness to accept and even promote these fighters, their presence could signify an attention to at least make life difficult for any intervention force in Mali, something that could undercut current projections for the eventual success of such a force.

UPDATE: In the comments below, Nasser and 7our make excellent points related to the difficulty inherent in defining a “foreign” fighter in a region where ethno-linguistic groups cross borders, where some borders barely exist, and where centuries of trade and intermingling make it very hard to define who belongs and who does now. These comments remind me of something the great scholar of northern Mali Baz Lecocq noted in April, after RFI reported locals hearing fighters speaking Hassaniyya; as Lecocq pointed out then (and 7our points out below) a number of people speak Hassaniyya, including some Moors (Bidan) in northern Mali. One could complicate the issue further by pointing out that longstanding marriage and other ties can also blur the line between nationalities; for instance, in the Adrar in Algeria, many families have some sort of family connection to northern Mali, something social anthropologist Judith Scheele discusses at length in her excellent recent book. So in this case, if someone lives in Algeria, has an Algerian passport, but either has family in northern Mali or can directly trace their lineage to northern Mali, would that make them a “foreign” fighter, or not? This is partially why I find the recent reported influx of non-Sahelian fighters to be so interesting, because as Nasser very rightly stated in a message to me and in the comment, there are people who more naturally “belong” in the Sahel, than others, and it is important to differentiate when talking about these fighters.

Additionally, 7our and Nasser both raise important methodological issues in evaluating these reports, namely the issue of how local witnesses know about and identify these foreign fighters. Is it by accent? By how the fighters look or dress? By how they identify themselves? And if they do identify themselves, is it by region, by group, by country of origin, and so on and so on. Keep their insightful comments in mind while reading this post, and when looking at further reporting about this issue.

Photo Credit: Reuters

Distinguishing Between Foreign Fighters in Syria

It is well known now that there are indeed foreign fighters in Syria. It is not yet though a full-fledged foreign jihad and mainly a Syrian contest. Estimates are difficult to come by, but journalists and news sources suggest numbers are at the very least currently in line with estimates from the Bosnian conflict (~1,000) in the 1990s and have yet to reach the levels of Afghanistan in the 1980s (~5,000-20,000) or Iraq this past decade (~4,000-5,000). While the number of foreign fighters in Syria is relatively small compared to Iraq, the rate of the influx is much higher. Most have joined up only in the past 6-8 months. If the conflict in Syria drags on, it will greatly outstrip Iraq. Each conflict though is of course different and within them there have been differing types of foreign fighters that have joined up.

The Syrian Conflict and Limitations

The Syrian conflict has confounded some of the assumptions on foreign fighters regarding conflicts of the Muslim world from the past 30 years. This is because earlier paradigms focused mainly on different shades of Salafis that joined the fight since they were the overwhelming majority. In this way, with regard to Syria, there is a portion of non-Islamist and secular Muslims who are riding the wave of the Arab uprisings and therefore do not necessarily fit in previous schemas. These individuals fought their tyrants at home, some then moved onto Libya to assist in the fight against Qadhafi, while others only came to Syria as their first exogenous action. For instance, recently, a Libyan by the name of Firas told the AFP “in the Libyan revolution, many Syrians fought on our side, so it is now time to return the favor.”

In an overall sense, though, there are major limitations in capturing the percentages of foreign fighters from a variety of ideological and motivational categories. The very nature of tracking foreign fighters will always only provide a snapshot. War makes it difficult to distinguish differing actors since there becomes an overlap effect. A basic spectrum, though, can help provide a map to better under the differing trends.

Typology of Foreign Fighters

Tourists:

These individuals go abroad to help fight with their fellow Muslim brethren and are moved by altruistic motivations. Once the conflict ends they go home and continue their normal lives. This category is where many of the Arab youth of the uprisings fit in. More prominently, are the Libyans in Syria. They are most associated with the Irish-Libyan commander Mehdi Harati, formerly of the Tripoli Brigade in the fight against Qadhafi in Libya and currently the leader of Liwa’ al-Ummah in Syria.

Tribal:

These individuals go abroad because of familial ties that stretch borders. The cases of the tribes on the Syrian-Iraqi border are most notable. Tribesmen have now reversed the flow of their smuggling operations from during the time of the Iraq war.

Jihadis:

There are two main types of foreign jihadis within Syria: homeward bound revolutionaries and outward bound revolutionaries. The former is interested in overthrowing their local “apostate” regime. Homeward bound revolutionaries go to the areas of war to hone their skills and train fighters for their future battle against their state. The latter once the conflict ends will move onto another country where a non-Muslim military is occupying a Muslim territory. The end goal is to return all formerly run Muslim territory back to Muslims. Among these outward bound revolutionaries are a subset that are associated with al-Qaeda’s ideology and worldview and are motivated by not only attacking the West and local apostate regimes, but setting up enclaves or emirates governed by their interpretation of the sharia and to eventually grow into a reestablished Caliphate.

There is only one known foreign fighter-dominated jihadi organization in Syria at this juncture: Fatah al-Islam, fighting under the banner of the al-Khilafah Brigade. Fatah al-Islam is the Lebanese-based organization, which is most known for its fight with the Lebanese military at the Nahr al-Bared refugee camp in May and June 2007 and later moved to the Ain al-Hilweh camp as a base. While not all Lebanese foreign fighters are associated with Fatah al-Islam, its leader Abdel Ghani Jawhar died in April 2012 constructing a bomb in Syria. Fatah al-Islam has also taken responsibility for two major operations: killing less than thirty Syrian soldiers in rural Aleppo on July 18 and ambushing Syrian army tanks and killing more than thirty in al-Qastal on July 22.

While many news outlets have reported that al-Qaeda in Iraq has infiltrated the Syrian rebellion, there has yet to be any proof that they are currently operating there. It is possible that members in individual capacities have joined up in the fight, but organizationally this has yet to occur, but could happen in the coming months. There is one organization in Syria that has been carrying the flag for the global jihadi movement: Jabhat al-Nusrah, which was founded in January 2012. Currently there are no confirmed figures on how many members they have, but news reports suggest that they have a few hundred and some among them are foreign fighters including Lebanese, Jordanians and Iraqis. Foreign jihadis are also believed to be fighting with Kata’ib Ahrar ash-Sham. The jihadi forums have also announced more than thirty martyrdom notices for foreigners since the beginning of the year.

Implications

The first two foreign fighter categories are difficult to pin down currently because they are not organized in the same way as jihadis and far lower key in their efforts. This is also why many have had a difficult time ascertaining differences among foreign fighters and painting them all as hardcore jihadis. The concern in terms of counterterrorism is that the longer the Syria civil war festers there is potential for the overall radicalization of the rebel movement. It is also possible that as the rebels and foreign fighters get more radicalized they could become more susceptible to jihadi ideology that is sympathetic to the worldview of al-Qaeda. That being said, at this point, there is no evidence that jihadis are at the head of the rebellion – they are mainly force-multipliers insofar as experience and expertise in bomb making from past “jihads” procuring funding and weaponry through their networks, and in tactical skill in combat.

Recommendations

Distinguishing among the different types of foreign fighters is important for developing sound policy, especially when thinking about what happens after the conflict against the Assad regime ends.

It is thus crucial for Washington to begin working closely with its allies in Ankara, Beirut, Baghdad, and Amman to help locate any potential fighters with ill intentions when passing through their countries returning home or off to another conflict zone. At the same time, it is important to not make the mistakes of post-Afghanistan 2001 where some individuals were arrested and jailed without actually being associated with a terrorist or insurgent organization. The task will not be easy, but care needs to be put into place so as not to cause a further backlash.

In this light, Washington along with its European counterparts should encourage local governments of the region to provide amnesty to individuals that return in good standing and want to return to their past occupations or even enticing individuals by providing them with jobs in the military or local police force. Washington should also discourage the scenario that enfolded in Yemen when former president Ali Abdullah Salih used “Afghan Arabs” against his enemies in the south in the 1990s after they returned. The use of ex-foreign fighters for local governments’ own ends, as militias, should not be tolerated.

Additionally, Washington ought to continue its pursuit of further deepening intelligence ties with governments of the region to help stem any potential attacks within or originating from a particular country. This is crucial because as noted in “The Wandering Mujahidin: Armed and Dangerous,” an August 1993 declassified report by the State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research (INR), which examined the fallout from the anti-Soviet jihad, showed that the information passed and logistical and financial networks established in the crucible of the war helped spur new avenues for other fights in the Muslim world and the West once the Soviets left Afghanistan.

One potential area of concern and backlash is attempting to work with the current rebels and future government of Syria. As a consequence of not assisting the Free Syrian Army (FSA) and many battalions, which are currently being helped by a contingent of foreign fighters as well as jihadi elements, the future Syria government might not be willing to work with Washington to rid the country of these individuals. At the very least, as the influx of foreign fighters continues, it is necessary for Washington along with its allies to start preparing to contain whatever fallout might occur in the aftermath of Assad’s fall.

Tunisia’s Contentious Transition

Since Tunisians overthrew former president Ben Ali’s regime in January 2011, its transition to democracy has been pointed to as a shining example in contrast to more tenuous situations in Egypt, Syria, Yemen, and Libya. While the elections for its constituent assembly went off without a hitch in October 2011, the past six months have proven far more contentious and difficult. A political, economic, and security malaise has cast a shadow over the prospects of a Tunisia living up to its expectation of providing a positive pathway to the rest of the region for transitioning to first stable and most progressive Arab democratic state.

Although many have worried about the rise in Salafism in Tunisia, there have been more immediate concerns over the shape and contours surrounding Tunisia’s future political arrangements. The constitution that was originally to be finished this October, a year after the elections has been reported will now be moved back to March 2013. Tunisian officials have yet to change the date of the next parliamentary elections, which are supposed to be at the same time as the completion of the constitution in March. Campaigning while completing a document that will provide the framework for Tunisia’s future is not the most effective way to secure a reasonable and non-politicized document.

Most troubling about the process of writing the constitution as well as developing a competitive political system is the fraying of secular and liberal parties. Party defections and individuals quitting their parties have decimated the two parties, CPR and Ettaktol, whom are in a coalition with the leading Islamist party Ennahda. This has put a wrench in the ability for these groups to apply pressure from the left to moderate Ennahda’s position. Without it, Ennahda has only had to worry about its right flank: the more conservative Islamist and Salafis parties Jabhat al-Islah and Hizb ut-Tahrir as well as the less moderate elements within its own party.

Without a strong secular and liberal opposition the idea of a moderate Islamist party becomes less likely when the only true challenge comes from the right. The failure of the secular/liberals to unite has created such an opening for Islamists. The controversial insertions in the draft of the constitution, which would criminalize blasphemy and limit the rights of women, are the first examples of what might be in store without a strong left-leaning opposition. While some might point to the preamble not including language about shari’a being source of law, Ennahda understands that it does not need it in the constitution because the process of gradual Islamization will take care of it overtime.

Questions surrounding whether Ennahda is up to the task of governing the country and providing a more robust economic future has also come under scrutiny. Many voted for Ennahda due to the belief that they would cleanse the government of corruption. Since in power though Ennahda has acted similarly to the prior regime in terms of nepotistic practices versus a meritocratic process in appointing individuals to governmental posts. Further, the economy continues to sputter yet Ennahda has deceptively reported foreign investment figures to make it appear that they have recovered to pre-revolution levels. However, it did not account for the devaluation of the Tunisian dinar, which was approximately 20%. So in dollar terms, the foreign investment was considerably less than in 2010, but in nominal terms it showed a modest increase.

Another issue many Tunisians are worried about is the very public rise of Salafi intimidation and vigilantism. While much of it is unconnected to organized parties and associations the lack of accountability in response to actions such as harassment of women over clothing choice, confrontation over alcohol consumption, violence over un-Islamic art, and sectarian attacks over Shi’a and Sufi cultural practices has created an emboldened minority. Unfortunately, members of Ennahda have brushed much of this off as a foreign plot or elements within the former regime trying to arouse provocation. The truth is, Salafism has been in Tunisia since the 1980s, it only now has the ability to express itself openly. It is possible Ennahda is also playing politics since they are concerned they could lose votes in the upcoming election to Jabhat al-Islah or Hizb ut-Tahrir.

These actions though are one of the reasons that hinder secular and liberal politicians activists’ willingness to work with Ennahda. They believe as a result of the lack of response from Ennahda they are complicit. While it is questionable and doubtful that there is some conspiracy, the difference in police response when there are secular/liberal demonstrations in comparison to the lack of response when there are Salafi incidents has created a sense that at the very least Ennahda sympathizes with the Salafi causes.

Further, Ennahda’s counter-response to secular and liberal activists’ demonstrating and complaining about these incidents also raises questions over Ennahda’s ability to truly be a credible partner. If Rachid Ghannouchi, the leader of Ennahda and who is viewed as the most moderate of Islamists in the region, is calling his political opponents extremists and enemies of Islam, it is a damning indictment against him, his party, and the notion that moderate Islamism is actually possible once in power.

While there are positive signs that secular and liberal Tunisians are fighting back against this, it is usually in the form of street activism, which does not necessarily translate into electoral or policy successes. The creation of Nida’ Tunis by a former Ben Ali hand Beji Caid el-Sebsi has given some hope that it might unite forces from the Tunisian left. Many are worried thought that because of el-Sebsi’s past it discredits the cause and El-Sebsi’s project is not actually liberal.

The lefts infighting and impotence and Ennahda’s lack of political courage and amateurism have led to an unfortunate state of affairs in Tunisia. Increased political polarization, a stagnant economy, and feelings of insecurity have created a situation in Tunisia where many are worried about the future of the country. It suggests that despite the high hopes regarding Tunisia being an outlier in its transition, it is in fact more in line with the other countries in the region. Tunisia is just not as relatively dysfunctional and there is still a glimmer of hope for a positive outcome. If the current trajectory continues on this course though it does not portend to an optimistic future.

Trying to Understand MUJWA

Since it first burst onto the scene in December 2011, the Movement for Tawhid and Jihad in West Africa (generally MUJWA in English, or MUJAO in French) has been a difficult group to pin down. The group, originally characterized as a “dissident” faction of al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), its actions have raised a number of possible contradictions and open questions (laid out admirably along with excellent background here, here, and here by Kal over at The Moor Next Door). Recently, some local and international actors have taken in particular to questioning MUJWA’s actions, and speculating that MUJWA, believed to be heavily funded by the cocaine and now the kidnapping business, may in essence be using jihadist activities as a sort of front for its criminal behavior.

This post is an attempt to explore and analyze some of the possible explanations for MUJWA’s behavior, with a focus on its activities, composition, and role in the city of Gao. Ultimately, I will question some of the assumptions local and international observers have made about MUJWA’s motivations, in particular attempts to frame MUJWA as a “criminal” rather than a “terrorist” or “insurgent” organization, when available evidence paints a far more complicated picture of overlapping motivations and multiple sub-groupings within the same organization.

Tell me, who are you?

Confusion surrounding MUJWA’s personnel, actions, funding streams, and general relationship to other jihadist groups in the area (namely AQIM and Ansar Al-Din) as well as to local populations, have led to some recently to dig into MUJWA’s “true” identity. For instance, a recent article from Radio France Internationale (RFI), which generally provides detailed and well-informed coverage of northern Mali, gave voice to some longstanding theories that MUJWA’s attacks abroad and efforts to impose shari’ah in Gao and surrounding villages were little more than cover for what are believed to be the very lucrative criminal activities of the group’s core Arab leadership. The author (RFI often does not identify the authors of its stories) cites a purportedly connected local source on the subject (my translation):

For this person, very knowledgeable about the region, MUJWA’s men are above all else traffickers. ‘Shari’ah is a cover’ he says. MUJWA is looking to reorganize an already-existant [cocaine] trade that prospered during the years of [deposed Malian president Amadou Toumani Touré, or ATT]. Working with MUJWA is thus a guarantee of being able to pursue business, our interlocutor explains. According to him, under the auspices of association with local civil society, a number of the city’s notables are complicit with this mafia system.

This conception of MUJWA as a largely criminally-oriented organization is one that also appears frequently in Malian descriptions of the group, as well as in conversations with Malian and other specialists and residents of the north. It is also strikingly similar to the way some analysts wrote about AQIM in the Sahel (and in particular AQIM commander Mokhtar Belmokhtar), especially in 2010 and 2011, as violence in northern Algeria waned but hostage taking and other activities expanded in the Sahel. Many writers assumed that AQIM was becoming more of a “criminal” organization than a “jihadist” organization, a dichotomy that I do not think necessarily has to exist in practice.

However, this characterization still merits exploration, especially in light of the circumstantial evidence linking known or widely suspected traffickers from the region (people like Cherif Ould Tahar and Sultan Ould Bady, not to mention a number of other well-known Gao Arabs) to MUJWA. For instance, the Mauritanian journalist and specialist Mohammed Mahmoud Abu al-Ma’ali, in his lengthy explanation of the complicated relationship between AQIM, MUJWA, and Ansar Al-Din, states that the original tension between Sultan Ould Bady and AQIM’s Sahelian leadership arose when Ould Bady, a half-Tuareg half-Arab from the Gao region, was purportedly denied permission to form an AQIM unit composed primarily of Malian Arabs. Ould Bady is from the al-Amhar (sometimes written Lamhar) tribe, one of several from the Tilemsi Valley region north of Gao that are believed to largely control the cocaine trade in northern Mali, in addition to other legitimate and illegitimate businesses. Social Anthropologist Judith Scheele, for instance, has explored the increasing Tilemsi Arab control with regard to these traffics, and the major implications the growth of these trades have had on local tribal relationships and the interplay between previously “dominant” Kounta and the Tilemsi Arabs.

Before exploring this further, however, some caveats need to be added. While much ink has been spilled about the spread of the drug trade in the Sahel, precious little direct evidence has been publicly provided with regards to the actual size and profitability of this trade. This is due largely to the incredible difficulty of researching the trade, as well as efforts by traders to launder or otherwise hide money behind businesses in multiple regional countries, though I suspect part of it is also lazy writing and analysis. Within this lack of data is another frustrating problem, that of identifying accurately those involved in the trade. This creates the paradoxical problem in which anyone looking into this trade can quickly “know” the key players, but the evidence linking them to the trade (and groups like AQIM or MUJWA) is, again, largely circumstantial or speculative, and heavily dependent on vague reports and local rumor. This speculation has led one key figure in the Gao region, former Bourem deputy Mohamed Ould Mataly, to publicly deny membership in MUJWA.

Additionally, relatively little news is available on other “key leaders” either in the drug trade or in MUJWA, making it incredibly difficult to discern the complex interplay of factions and motivations that may be at work. To try to explore what MUJWA is and what they may or may not want, then, we need to look carefully at what MUJWA has actually done in the Gao region, and try to interpret these actions within the broader local and regional context.

MUJWA in Gao

Since first seizing Gao at the end of March alongside troops belonging to the Tuareg rebel group the National Movement for the Liberation of the Azawad (MNLA), MUJWA’s behavior in the city has been marked by an interesting combination of flexibility and intransigence on certain key issues. After initial attempts to ban football and television sparked violent protests in mid-May, MUJWA relaxed some of their policies, aggressively courting and recruiting locals (in particular ethnic Songhai, which make up the majority in Gao). While the MNLA was busy forming a “government” and developing a reputation – merited or not – for theft, rape, and other abuses, MUJWA invested in cleaning the city’s gutters, providing aid (especially foodstuffs), and attracting the support of at least some of the city’s “notables”. The group also appointed a Gao local, Aliou Mahamane Touré, to head the city’s “Islamic Police”, also largely believed to be comprised primarily of natives of Gao and the Gao region.

These efforts, as well as clear attempts to associate themselves with local (particularly Songhai) history and symbols, combined with MUJWA’s attempts to portray themselves as protectors of Gao’s populations against the MNLA, allowed MUJWA – reportedly supported or even led by AQIM forces under the command of Mokhtar Belmokhtar – to boot the MNLA from the city after brief but intense fighting at the end of June. Until very recently, reports indicate that MUJWA continued to pursue a somewhat restrained attitude toward shari’ah and infringements on local practice, while also reportedly making efforts to restrain more zealous members of the organization (including the Islamic Police commissioner Aliou Touré) and continuing heavy investment into projects in the city, including providing money to buy fuel to power Gao’s electrical plant.

Of late, however, the organization has hardened its attitudes, refusing to bend to popular will as it had before. On the night of August 4, MUJWA reportedly announced on local radio that the next day, it would amputate the hand of a young MUJWA member alleged to have stolen arms from the group in order to later re-sell them. The next day, Gao youth flooded the streets, occupying the place de l’indépendence, where the amputation was supposed to take place and causing MUJWA to delay the amputation. That night, after a group of four fighters led by the Islamic Police Commissioner Aliou Touré mercilessly beat a popular local journalist, Malick Maiga, young Gao residents again flooded the streets in protest, causing MUJWA to back off. Yet only days later, another contingent of MUJWA fighters successfully amputated the hand of another alleged thief in Ansongo, around 100 km south of Gao. A MUJWA commander interviewed after the incident threatened to continue the harsh punishments, adding that the only reason the organization had delayed the amputation in Gao was due to pressure from local notables, rather than the protests.

Just a day after the amputation in Ansongo, MUJWA commander Abdul Hakim convened imams and notables at Gao’s Kuwait Mosque under the premise of a debate about shari’ah. However, according to local reports and press accounts the meeting was far from a debate, and instead a meeting to announce that shari’ah would be applied in Gao following the end of the holy month of Ramadan this weekend. Earlier this week, five local residents were whipped for allegedly selling drugs, and on Wednesday MUJWA banned local radio stations from playing Western music.

Explaining MUJWA’s Complexity

How, then, does a fairly common perception of MUJWA’s attitude, held by informed observers, fit with MUJWA’s actions on the ground? On the one hand, there is no reason that the interpretation presented above would be inconsistent with MUJWA’s actions; after all, the above take on their activities is premised on the implementation of shari’ah in order to “cover” other illicit activities. And even if those executing harsh judgment on locals (and the group’s own members) are sincere in their desire to apply shari’ah, this does not indicate per se that other powerful backers and members of the group are not primarily associated with MUJWA for financial gain, especially if a more powerful and feared MUJWA means more solid control of the trafficking routes that run through the Gao region. Terrorist groups of any size are hardly ever uniform, and MUJWA has clearly drawn, at least recently, on a large number of of recruits from many different countries across the region.

Indeed, it seems likely based on available evidence that even Gao’s local recruits are not all alike in their motivations. While some appear to have been drawn by lack of other opportunities and MUJWA’s seemingly abundant cash, others like Touré appear to have been drawn in by conviction. Gao’s mayor Sadou Haroune Diallo said as much in a recent interview, stating that MUJWA’s recruits from Gao are more hardline than other members of the group. And local reports suggest that many of the “local” MUJWA recruits have been recruited from small villages known for more strict Islamic practices (for more on the origins and early spread of Islamic reform movements in Gao and local “Wahhabi” villages, see this dissertation and shorter article from RW Niezen).

Even these explanations may not explain the actions of MUJWA or individual MUJWA factions. Following the amputation at Ansongo, a local organization of Bella, or “black Tuareg” from Tin Hamma, the victim’s village, said the amputation was primarily about settling scores between Peul and Bella over pastureland. And the attempted amputation of the MUJWA member’s hand in Gao could have been an attempt to instill fear in the local population – or MUJWA units themselves – by showing that they would readily punish one of their own.

Yet while definitive answers may be hard to find, this reading of MUJWA’s activities is not fully satisfying. For one thing, the organization has put extensive effort into showing itself protecting Gao and ensuring the quality of life for its residents, backing up rhetoric with both action and money. Why, then, would MUJWA continue to push for shari’ah even in the face of repeated and predictable public reaction? This is an especially important question given that a number of other actors – the West African body ECOWAS, the Malian government, and militias like the sectarian Ganda Izo and Ganda Koy – are practically itching to push into the north. Antagonizing local populations is bad for business in the best of circumstances, and potentially very dangerous when someone moves in to push out an oppressive “occupier”. For an example of the dangers of unduly angering locals, one need only look to how the city reacted to MUJWA after it defeated the MNLA.

Moreover, this seems to be an odd time to impose increasingly harsh punishments on Gao’s populations, given how close MUJWA was to achieving a sort of acceptance in Mali and the broader region. In the past two months, a range of actors including the pre-defeat MNLA, Malian politicians, and the powerful and influential head of Mali’s High Islamic Council, Mahmoud Dicko, had taken to treating MUJWA as a local actor, implying that they were somehow different from the “foreign” AQIM and signaling a possible place for MUJWA in political negotiations in the north. MUJWA representatives or figures close to the group may have even met with Burkinabé Foreign Minister Djibril Bassolé during his recent trip to the north, though people close to Bassolé deny these reports. However, a very public and very violent application of shari’ah punishments endangers this acceptance, as shown by Dicko’s aggressive reaction to what happened in Ansongo. And even if the Gao notables who purportedly traveled to Bamako on MUJWA’s behalf meet with success, any negotiations with MUJWA at this point run the risk of provoking a harsh reaction among average Malians, given the widespread disgust at abuses it and its allies have committed in the north.

This discontinuity is all the more striking given that, if the rumors about MUJWA’s key funders and leaders being tied to the cocaine trade and other traffics are true, many of these same men prospered in part due to corruption and state complicity under the previous Malian government. Why go through all of this trouble, including physically seizing and then attempting to administer an entire city/region, if the only ultimate goal was to “reorganize” a trade that was by all indications progressing quite well under the old Malian government. Traffickers prosper in part when they can operate within weak but extant state structures, in part so that they don’t have to deal with the complicated and expensive mess that is governing and administering territory. Yet until this time MUJWA has made no attempt to publicly distance itself from the organizations or actions that would throw a wrench in negotiations with Bamako, and they certainly have made no overt moves to welcome the Malian state back into the north – though it is entirely possible that this is being discussed in private, and we simply do not know about it.

Again, it is possible that what we are seeing is simply evidence of a divided organization with multiple, sometimes competing factions. But I suspect that at least some of the commentary on MUJWA reflects a tendency among analysts to want to place jihadists and “criminals” in distinct categories, despite the fact that jihadists, from the GIA in Algeria to al-Qaeda in Iraq to the Taliban and related networks in Afghanistan and Pakistan (and many, many more) have made use of criminal means and criminals themselves to further their cause. This was certainly the case with AQIM, an organization long dismissed for its criminal activities that has, in my opinion, shown itself to be a far more complex organization.

This is not to say that MUJWA does not gain from criminal enterprise, or even that these links – especially in the Gao region – are not vital for its implantation and growth. As a Malian who lived for a number of years in Gao noted to me, “if MUJWA were a purely ideological organization, it could have established itself in Timbuktu, Tarkint, Almoustrat, or elsewhere, why specifically Gao? Because their interests and investments are in Gao, and in Gao they can count on having ‘collaborators and friends.’”

Based on the evidence presented here, I would argue that instead of being a purely “criminal” or purely “jihadist” organization, it is MUJWA’s criminal activities that allow its jihadist activities, and quite possibly the jihadist activities that also help protect the group’s criminal (and other) activities. And we should at least consider the possibility that militants, like anyone else, can have multiple and overlapping motivations, and that MUJWA’s suspected Arab funders can be both jihadists and traffickers at the same time.

Stereotyping Muslims: One Direction’s Zayn Malik, Pop Culture, and the Diversity of Lived Religious Identity

The face of fitna or the face of Al-Qa’ida’s “stealth jihad” ?

-Christopher Anzalone (Institute of Islamic Studies, McGill University)

With album sales of 2.7 million worldwide, a commercially successful world tour, a debut atop the Billboard 200 in the US, and a ubiquitous radio single, “What Makes You Beautiful,” British boy band One Direction are one of the most successful musical acts in the world.  The group is made up of five former contestants on the popular British televised singing competition The X Factor, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, Harry Styles, Liam Payne, and Louis Tomlinson.

Aside from their global commercial success, One Direction recently attracted a spurt of media attention for the personal religious persuasion of one of its members, 19-year-old Malik.  Last week Malik’s religion, which first attracted media attention in a 2010 article in British tabloid The Sun, was discussed in an online MSNBC article that highlighted the seeming dichotomy between being a rockstar and a Muslim.  On June 6, a right wing American blogger took aim at the teenage pop star and accused him of trying to “pimp” Islam under the cover of One Direction’s pop harmonies and catchy, if somewhat formulaic, lyrics.  Muslims, fans and non-fans, have been discussing his religion and whether some of his life choices are or are not “Islamic” since his appearance on The X Factor.

The recent attention to Malik’s religion and much of the ensuing discussion about it highlights the ways in which Muslim identity is simplified and stereotyped in the minds of many people.  For some Muslims, Muslim identity rests on a simplified notion of who is and is not a Muslim, one that ignores 1400 years of cultural history and the complexity of identity, while for anti-Muslim polemicists Muslim identity rests on stereotypes and ignoring, or outright ignorance of, reality.

One Direction: Ambassadors of “Boy Band Jihad” ?

Last year, Muslim fans of One Direction picked up on and discussed online a series of Tweets he posted on Twitter last August related to Islam, which are discussed further below.  These Tweets, alongside his televised comment during a Christmas dinner for X Factor contestants that he doesn’t eat pork, were discussed and debated in numerous online discussions on One Direction fan sites, blogs, YouTube (by both fans and YouTube commentators), and even communal question-and-answer web sites such as Ask.com about his religion and whether his life choices, such as smoking, getting tattoos and ear piercings, and being a pop star, were compatible with being Muslim.  Though many were supportive of his decision to not hide his religious identity while also achieving mainstream success in the music business, some self-identified Muslims looked disapprovingly on some of his life choices, saying that they are “un-Islamic.”  Many wrote that because of these he could not be a very “good” or “pious” Muslim, expressing a normative view of piety and religious identity.  However, Malik also has a dedicated group of Muslim fans who have publicly announced their support not only in response to online questions about his religion but also in Facebook fan groups, for example the group “Zayn Malik’s Muslim FANS.”

Malik’s status as a pop star even elicited a legal opinion (fatwa) on an English-language question-and-answer web site, Islam Answers.  In response to a request from a questioner for proof that Malik’s choice to be a singer was forbidden (haram) “for Muslims” so his “very large” Muslim fanbase can be shown his deviance, respondent Abu Zahra, whose specific scholarly credentials are unclear, marshaled selected Qur’anic verses, hadith, and exegetical and juridical references attacking music and pursuing a career as a singer.  Alleging that the teenage singer is causing social discord (fitna), Abu Zahra wrote, “It is indeed very saddening to see that the majority of the Muslim Ummah [worldwide community] has fallen into one of the greatest traps of shaytan [Satan]—Music,” he wrote.  “Not only that, shaytan has blinded them so much that they think there is nothing wrong with it.  This unfortunate reality is indeed one of the signs of the end of times.”  Music, it seems, is not only haram but eschatologically so.  His ultimate verdict was that listening to or being a pop star are “totally forbidden in Islam” and the one who does either is “a major sinner.”  The flourishing of music in Muslim societies around the world is a socio-historical phenomenon that seems to have escaped him.

Yemeni musicians

To buttress his opinion that music can only ever be a tool of the Devil, Abu Zahra, in the bulk of his response, cites a long list of selected Qur’anic verses, hadith, and quotes from famous medieval Muslim jurists and exegetes such as Muhammad ibn Jarir al-Tabari, Ibn Hajar al-‘Asqalani, and Malik ibn Anas.  In summation, Abu Zahra wrote, “It should be clear that it is totally forbidden in Islam to become and listen to ‘pop-stars,’ and that such a person is a major sinner.”  He concludes by claiming not to be encouraging hatred of Malik per say but rather hatred toward what God and His prophet have declared worthy of enmity, in this case music.  Muslim youth should also be careful, he wrote, in choosing role models because on the Day of Judgment people will be grouped with those that they kept company with in life.  Therefore, he finished, those who strove to be like the Prophet Muhammad and God’s other righteous prophets and messengers will benefit from their company whereas those who chose singers will join them in hellfire.  It is important to note that prohibitions on music or certain forms of music are not unique to Muslim conservatives and indeed are held by many Muslim jurists, Sunni and Shi’i.  The juridical discourse on the issue is deserving of a post on its own and is beyond the scope of this piece.  However, the purpose of this post is not to venture an opinion on what “is” and “is not” permissible according to the views of Muslim jurists or to pass judgment on their views.  Rather, it is to argue that lived religious identity is multifaceted and highly individualized, thus defying imposed templates seeking to establish “normative” identities.

Traditional Afghan musicians

Abu Zahra’s response led to a debate in the comments section between those supportive of his opinion and those who disagreed.  The debate centered on whether all singing has been judged by religious scholars to be forbidden.  Some commenters argued that there is a difference between the recitation of religiously-themed songs (anasheed) and pop songs.  Others stated that it is Malik’s behavior, such as smoking and his decision to get tattoos, which is haram, not his singing per se.  Similar sentiments are expressed in threads about Malik’s religious persuasion mentioned previously.  Concern is more frequently expressed with regard to certain behavior rather than his status as a musician.  These arguments were met with fierce criticism from other commenters who fully endorsed Abu Zahra’s opinion.

On the opposite end of the ideological spectrum , in a June 6 blog post, Debbie Schlussel, a far right wing American blogger well known for her anti-Muslim writings, dubbed One Direction “boy band jihad” and zeroed in on Malik, accusing the teenager of “pimping Islam” on “millions of young girls” around the world.  To support her claims she pointed to his four Tweets discussed previously and engages in a “close reading” of them that would make a textual critic nauseous.  Malik, she wrote, fasts during Ramadan and Tweeted the “shehada (sic),” which she described as “the militant statement Muslims say in their prayers every day” and the “Muslim oath of martyrdom that comprises conversion to Islam.”  She went on to prove further her ignorance of the faith she hates so much, writing that the meaning of the shahada is that “only Mohammad is a real prophet” of the monotheistic, Abrahamic God.  In reality, the shahada affirms Islam’s core beliefs that “there is no god but [the one] God and Muhammad is His messenger” and if Schlussel had consulted any introductory book or class on the religion she’d know that the Islamic tradition recognizes many other prophets in addition to Muhammad, including Abraham, Moses, and Jesus.

Sorry Anwar, you’ve been replaced as the “pied piper of jihad,” at least in Schlussel’s universe

Schlussel also cited Tweets Malik wrote about Ramadan, the Islamic lunar month of fasting.  On August 1 of last year he wrote, “First day of rosay tday, who’s fasting?,” using an Urdu word (روزے) for the fasting Muslims do during the Islamic lunar month of Ramadan.  He followed this Tweet with a second the same day writing, “Ramazaan Mubarak to everyone that is .”  At the end of the month, on August 30, he Tweeted “Eid Mubarak to everyone today .”  Five days before, on August 25, he re-Tweeted a Tweet in Arabic of the Muslim testament of faith, the shahada, “there is no God but the [one] God and Muhammad is His messenger,” following it the same day with its transliteration into English.  She neglects to mention that he also Tweeted on Christmas as well to his Twitter followers (for example, here and here), not to mention for New Year’s Eve.

If her textual prowess isn’t convincing enough, Schlussel pointed to a photograph of Malik wearing a keffiyeh scarf, which in her mind is the “official garb of Islamic terrorism” rather than a popular form of traditional attire in much of the Middle East, Africa, Iran, Central Asia, Afghanistan, and the Indian Subcontinent as well as a popular recent fashion item.  She missed the photograph of him wearing the red poppy badge (see below) that in British Commonwealth countries is worn as a sign of respect for soldiers killed in battle.

Need more proof?  If so, Schlussel pointed to the Arabic tattoo on his chest.  Her alarmism at any use of Arabic, which is also spoken as the mother tongue of millions of non-Muslims, would likely be assuaged if she could actually read Arabic and thus tell that his tattoo is actually the name “Walter,” his grandfather.  Then again, sustained Google research would have also revealed this fact.  To Schlussel, any practice of Islam as a faith tradition is a form of “extremism,” thus she sees “jihad” in lyrics such as “Baby, you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, but when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell, you don’t know you’re beautiful.”  This is an Al-Qa’ida nasheed if ever there was one.

Media coverage of Malik’s personal religious beliefs, as well as many of the reactions to it by both Muslim and non-Muslim discussants online, are predicated on notions of monolithic, “normative” typifications of Muslim identity.  For many, non-Muslims and Muslims alike, his status as an international pop star with pierced ears and tattoos wearing designer jackets and jeans stands in contrast to their constructions of what a Muslim is and is not.  To some Muslims his lifestyle puts him outside the faith and they have essentially rejected him from the fold, considering him at best to be a lapsed and impious Muslim.  Ironically, anti-Muslim polemicists are at the same time working in overdrive to “prove” that the British teenager is not only a Muslim but that any practice of Islam is akin to joining Al-Qa’ida.

Musician or Schlussel’s “lone wolf” ?

In reality, Islam is a diverse and often contested religious tradition and individual Muslims interpret their faith in a myriad of different ways.  Muslim identity (or really a diverse array of individualized identities) cannot be boiled down to only a literal textual reading of certain sources, as some Muslims do, nor can it be accurately equated with fringe groups such as Al-Qa’ida and other militant groups, as some polemicists attempt to do.  Religious identity is lived and thus highly individualized even in faiths that emphasize the importance of the collectivity.  In an ideal world this would be more widely understood with regards to Islam and the world’s Muslim communities, as it is with other religious traditions such as Christianity and Judaism, to name just Islam’s Abrahamic cousins.  Of course, in an ideal world the personal religious beliefs of a teenage British pop singer from Bradford would also be deemed neither threatening nor newsworthy.

Is Mali the ‘next Afghanistan’? No.

The title of this post includes a question I’m seeing more and more, and it reflects the growing concern in Washington, Paris, and African capitals that the security situation in northern Mali is spiraling out of control. In this kind of environment, bad news tends to echo loudly and quickly. The most recent example of this is the strong reaction in the international press to an interview Nigerien President Mahamadou Issoufou gave to France 24 this week, in which he said that Afghans and Pakistanis were in Mali training fighters, in addition to confirming that French hostages held for nearly a year and a half by AQIM were in “good health” and still alive. This news has garnered quite a bit of attention, especially in the Francophone media, though it should be noted that RFI reported the presence Pakistani trainers in Timbuktu and in Kidal a month ago, to considerably less attention. Still, this and other signs of the degradation in the security environment in northern Mali and the growth of AQIM have spurred speculation about whether or not northern Mali was becoming a “West African Afghanistan“, a new Somalia, or a jumping-off point for terrorist attacks elsewhere.

While I think some of this concern is warranted, I think some of this language and concern may be, for the moment, a bit overwrought, as I will explain in this piece. This post is my attempt to sort through some of the current popular attitudes about the security situation in northern Mali, the very real risks to regional and international security that may be looming in the north, and the equally real constraints on militant groups attempting to impose shari’ah in northern Mali or project force beyond Mali’s already porous (or nonexistent) borders.

First, the bad news

Long before the Tuareg rebellion and the birth of Ansar Al-Din, AQIM and its predecessor the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC) were using Malian territory to strike other countries. The period from 2005-2011, in addition to seeing a number of kidnappings of Westerners in the Sahel, saw attacks against military, government and foreign targets (including the murder of French and American citizens) in Mauritania, attacks against border guards and customs agents in Algeria, and similar attacks and confrontations in Niger. During this period, AQIM’s involvement in kidnapping for ransom (KFR) and various smuggling networks may have netted upwards of 200 million euro – though these numbers are very fuzzy, and do not take into account the money the group has had to spend to simply operate and survive in one of the harshest environments on earth.

More recently, the AQIM “splinter” group the Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJWA), based in Mali, has conducted a suicide bombing in the southern Algerian city of Tamanrasset and kidnapped seven Algerian diplomats in the city of Gao. Moreover, foreign fighters appear to have reinforced MUJWA, AQIM, and Ansar Al-Din. The latter group in particular has admitted to welcoming fighters from Somalia, Niger, Tunisia,  and elsewhere (though of course this information has not been confirmed independently). AQIM, according to unconfirmed reports, has been reinforced by “Maghrebin” jihadists and steered others, in particular Mauritanians, to Ansar Al-Din. And while reports of more than 100 Boko Haram fighters being present in Gao may be an exaggeration, there is enough circumstantial evidence of their presence in Mali (and the alleged presence of AQIM members in Nigeria) to conclude that the groups may be tightening their links.

So to sum up, we now have a situation where at least three-to-four jihadist or hardline Islamist groups are active and “in possession” of much of northern Mali, including the cities of Gao, Kidal, and Timbuktu. These groups appear to be operationally active and training new fighters for different regional militant organizations, and possibly securing areas of operation for future training or attacks in the region. This is not to mention the role that these groups, in particular AQIM, appear to be playing in enforcing a harsh interpretation of shari’ah law and supporting Ansar Al-Din, which seems to have quickly accumulated a suspiciously large amount of money, weapons and personnel, especially given the much smaller size and less diverse composition of the organization – an issue I previously discussed here – when it was created late last year. Regardless, AQIM and its key leadership in the Sahel are almost certainly active in northern Mali, and will likely stay there, whether they remain deeply involved with Ansar Al-Din or pull back to focus on jihadist activity while allowing Ansar Al-Din to worry about the implementation of shari’ah in Mali, per the recent instructions of the group’s Kabylia-based leader Abdelmalek Droukdel.

This is not the Afghanistan you are looking for

Setting aside for a moment the causes of concern in northern Mali, there are a number of structural and local particularities that may inhibit the emergence of northern Mali as a new “safe haven” for jihadist groups. For one thing, northern Mali is a rather isolated place, with large, relatively barren distances between population centers. This makes it difficult, though clearly not impossible, to bring fighters into the country, and could put groups of fighters at risk if they venture out of the cities, as happened in March when Mauritanian aircraft attacked a convoy they believed to include AQIM members, including Yahya Abu Al-Hammam, the head of one of AQIM’s sub-units, who is reportedly present in Timbuktu. While it is unclear if the aircraft actually found their target, Western aircraft may have more luck, if they end up getting involved in the fighting (NB: This is not an expression of support for the use of manned or unmanned aircraft in the Sahel, simply an observation).

This isolation also means that it is difficult to re-supply fighters, whether with fuel, food, or ammunition. While smuggling networks for these materials are present and well-established in the Sahel, Mali’s neighbors can damage militant groups by tightening their grips on these smuggling routes or by attacking jihadists who expose themselves while trying to obtain supplies. This happened last month, when a rapid Algerian helicopter strike reportedly decimated a column of MUJWA fighters who tried to steal two fuel trucks in Tinzawaten, on the Mali-Algeria border.

In this vein, it is worth keeping in mind that while Afghanistan in the 90′s was bordered by at least one state that tolerated or may have even supported the Taliban, who then gave shelter to al-Qaeda and the numerous jihadist groups who used the country as a training base, northern Mali is surrounded by countries that are not exactly disposed to welcoming a jihadist-controlled state next door. Mauritania has repeatedly attacked AQIM targets in Mali, Niger has been vocally pushing for an intervention to root out AQIM and its allies, and while Algeria has been reticent to commit military forces to a foreign intervention, the Tinzawaten incident demonstrates the latter’s willingness to use force – potentially across the border – if its interests are threatened. And behind all of this is the possibility of European (really French) or American involvement in providing logistical or intelligence support for an ECOWAS or African Union force or direct airstrikes. While such a foreign intervention may have a very negative impact on the overall security situation in northern Mali, something will eventually have to give. As former diplomat and Mali watcher Todd J. Moss told Reuters last week, “Western policymakers will absolutely not allow a jihadist safe haven” in Mali.

Moreover, I believe that Ansar Al-Din in particular and those supporting it remain limited on a local level. While residents of Kidal, Gao and Timbuktu appear to have grudgingly welcomed the security and harsh justice Ansar Al-Din brought in the wake of the departure of the Malian army from the north, that appears to be changing. Protests have broken out in all three cities in the wake of the implementation of shari’ah (most recently in Kidal), the banning of soccer and smoking in Gao, and the destruction of a sacred holy site and a national monument in Timbuktu. After suppressing these protests Ansar has pulled back, especially in Timbuktu and Kidal; in Timbuktu, where the group has already put a local face on its actions, Ansar has attempted to show their appreciation for and willingness to protect the city’s patrimony. And in Kidal, after receiving significant pushback for having assaulted female protesters,  Ansar reportedly chose not to intervene during the second days’ protests. While Ansar Al-Din has been able to keep a lid on such protests so far, it is likely that these will grow if the group continues to pursue the implementation of shari’ah in the public sphere. And if protests continue to break out, the group will be faced with a hard choice between allowing the protests or suppressing them, given that violence may provoke protesters further, or push local notables influential within the organization – such as Ifoghas “chief executive” Alghabass Ag Intallah in Kidal – to push Ansar to moderate its behavior.

These local tensions could become more acute in an environment where multiple armed groups could eventually form in opposition. To put a spin on the Weberian expression, for the moment Ansar Al-Din and AQIM, dominant in terms of armament and manpower, have a monopoly on the threat of force in northern Mali. They have used this threat that the two groups used to push the MNLA and then the primarily Arab FNLA out of Timbuktu, as well as to assert their authority in Gao.

However, Ansar Al-Din and AQIM have so far resisted using anything more than targeted force, showing a potential unwillingness to unleash full-scale civil war in northern Mali. And other challengers to their authority may lurk in the wings; the National Liberation Front of the Azawad (FNLA) has threatened to kick AQIM out of Timbuktu; former Malian army commander El Hajj Gamou has formed his own group, the Republican Movement for the Restoration of the Azawad (MRRA); and another group purportedly composed of Songhaï and “black Tuareg”, the Movement of Patriots for Resistance and the Liberation of Timbuktu (MPRLT), has also promised to retake Timuktu. And the first clashes between Ansar Al-Din and MNLA fighters may have taken place in Kidal this week, though a number of people have since denied that any fighting took place. And the Songhai militia Ganda Iso’s members remain in and around Gao, even if the group fell apart after its leader was killed in combat with the MNLA in March.

For the moment, all of the groups mentioned except the MNLA exist primarily on paper, and the MNLA, reportedly lacking in arms and ammunition, has mostly cooperated or at least avoided conflict with Ansar Al-Din, to the point of briefly merging and then splitting with Ansar at the end of May. Still, there is the possibility that one or more armed groups could emerge to challenge or at least provoke Ansar Al-Din and its jihadist allies, especially if armed opposition groups receive support from abroad or from regional entities. Such opposition would again leave Ansar Al-Din and its allies in a position where they might have to actually use force against local populations, which could drastically alter the delicate balance of power and push local populations into open opposition. This would dramatically complicate life for Ansar Al-Din, and could potentially make the “safe haven” in northern Mali a bit less so.

None of this is to undermine or downplay the severity of the threat posed by the security situation in northern Mali, as the presence of hardline militant groups could threaten regional and international security, not to mention the security of the local populations forced to live under their harsh rule. Rather, it is important to keep in mind when analyzing the situation in northern Mali the important limits on hardline militant groups’ freedom of operation. While these factors may not be definitive in the long run, they will be important in shaping how these groups react to endogenous and exogenous pressure in the weeks and months to come.