Session 6

Terrorist Networks in Europe
Dr. Jeroen Gunning
The following is the basic text of the speaker’s paper. The full version (with footnotes) is available in .pdf format here.
Good morning. Thank you very much for inviting me, Eugene and Polly. It is good to be back - and back in one piece rather than some of my more unfortunate partners on this panel. I want to dovetail into what Farhad has been saying and focus more on al-Qaeda and the post-9/11 situation. In many ways discussing al-Qaeda is like trying to find your way out of a hall of mirrors. The information available in the public domain - unfortunately I have not had the kind of fascinating prison interviews Farhad has had - is on the whole inconclusive or contradictory. You read different interpretations, different 'facts', sometimes even propounded by the same journalist but in a different article. This means that what I say is going to be speculative and I will follow in Jorgen's footsteps by pointing out that what I say today may not be the same as I say tomorrow.
I will focus on the details of what is believed to be known of some individual al-Qaeda suspects and I will try to place these in the wider context of critical terrorism studies and social movement theory, in some ways trying to extend what Farhad did in terms of the sociological profile with networks and social movement activities. First, some demarcations, because all the terms we are using suffer from verbal slippage. By terrorism - and this is a term I use very hesitantly - I mean that type of violence, or the threat thereof, that targets a sample of non-combatant, non-office-bearing individuals of a political community so as to terrorise the remainder of that community with the aim of gaining political advantage. The violence is primarily symbolic, rather than strategic, and the deaths of the victims are a message to a third party, not an end in themselves. This type of violence is not always as readily distinguishable from other types of violence as some terrorist experts and government spokesmen would have us think. So in some ways we have to conceptually 'explode' these categories even while using them, rather like the earlier discussed term Islamophobia.
However, I do think one can uphold the distinction between violence which primarily targets combatants or government symbols and violence which intentionally targets unarmed civilians. Plots involving the Underground or civilian flights to the US fall into the latter category, while plots against US embassies, NATO bases, or more widely, fighting armies in Chechnya or Afghanistan, fall into the former. The importance of this distinction goes beyond ethics as it has implications for who should bear the cost of countering the threat. Intrusive surveillance operations against the general population may be acceptable if the threat is to that population at large, but it becomes dubious if the threat primarily concerns foreign officials residing within that population, on the grounds of a third state's foreign policy.
Though these acts of violence are 'real', the way they are interpreted and linked is highly subjective. What constitutes 'terrorism', or more generally a 'security threat', is a social construct. The process by which a security threat is selected or constructed by those elites who have the power to do so has been termed 'securitisation' by the Copenhagen School. An example of the muddying nature of this securitisation process is the way the word 'ricin' has been habitually linked, including by Tony Blair, to the notion of 'weapons of mass destruction'. Yet, if you look at ways to apply ricin, it is in fact too problematic in terms of getting it into the bloodstream, to make it a weapon of mass destruction. It may be possible, but it is very difficult. There are other substances that are much more readily operationalised. Therefore, linking the two terms obfuscates what ricin actually is, does and signifies. Similarly, terrorism has been declared the primary national threat since 9/11, yet the number of people who have died as a result of the combined operations attributed to al-Qaeda is considerably less than the annual number of deaths caused by, say traffic accidents in Britain alone - or, more pertinently, those killed by the 'War on Terror'. This is not to say that terrorism is not potentially dangerous, especially when linked to weapons of mass destruction. But it is to highlight the constructed nature of the 'threat of terrorism'.
As mentioned yesterday, 'securitisation' has also affected the way Muslims, and now asylum-seekers, have been perceived. In the early 1990s, the perception in British public consciousness of Muslims as a threat was inspired not just by the actions of some in relation to the Rushdie Affair and the 1991 Gulf War, but also by the increasingly propounded notion of a global 'Islamic fundamentalist' threat which was partly a function of multiple crises in European identity evolution. 9/11 has given this process a further boost while each arrest of an Algerian asylum-seeker here in Britain's 'War on Terror' has been used, consciously or unconsciously, to highlight the threat asylum-seekers supposedly pose.
Finally, the category of those who are presumed 'bad Muslims' is, of course, as diverse as Muslims in general. Yet distinctions between for instance nationalist and pan-Islamic Islamists, Diaspora and European Islamists ,or 'accommodationists' and 'utopianists' (those who, respectively, embrace or reject compromise and political power-sharing) have been routinely blurred, unnecessarily alienating people. Then there are rhetorical distinctions between those who, in the European context, consider Europe dar al-islam (abode of Islam), dar al-'ahd (abode of negotiation) or dar al-harb (abode of war) - the latter arguably a sine qua non for embarking on terrorism. These categories are not nice and neat. For example, Hizb ut-Tahrir, which employs utopianist rhetoric and considers Britain dar al-harb, rejects violence - at least at present. The rhetoric resembles that of Bin Laden, yet no Hizb ut-Tahrir members have been known to join al-Qaeda because their methods diverge.
Turning now to an analysis of what the media says about suspected al-Qaeda affiliates in Europe, five characteristics stand out. As always, these should not be reified. There are always exceptions and the sample is so small that a few new additions could dramatically change the characteristic 'profile'. Having said this, the five characteristics currently standing out are: presumed affiliates are generally of Arab, and particularly of North African, origin; they are often relatively recent immigrants or asylum-seekers who have arrived in Europe during the 1990s or even the 2000s; they are typically well-educated (which fits what you said, Farhad); a significant number have become radicalised in Europe, generally following separation from their families; and they are not embedded in local established constituencies of supporters. I will go through each of these five points in turn.
Not all those labelled al-Qaeda, which in itself is a network of networks, may turn out to be al-Qaeda affiliates. Much of what we know is conjecture. I suspect - though this is equally conjecture - that a number of the Algerians who have been apprehended here in Britain were not actually working for al-Qaeda (which has implications for the scope and nature of their potential targets). Be that as it may, it is significant that, bar some who have volunteered to fight in Afghanistan or Chechnya (which is a different issue from 'fighting' in Europe), almost no suspects of Turkish or Pakistani origin have been listed, suggesting that despite al-Qaeda's presence in Germany and Britain, it has not recruited extensively among these groups. Equally significant is that alleged affiliates are typically not drawn from the long-established Muslim communities in Europe, although there are exceptions, for instance Abu Hamza, British citizen since 1980 (although it is not entirely clear what his precise links to al-Qaeda are), and Zacarias Moussaoui, a French Moroccan linked (controversially) to the 9/11 team.
This profile - a recent immigrant of Arab origin - is not surprising from the point of view of social movement theory. If reports are true that al-Qaeda began to operate in Europe in the early 1990s following the end of the struggle in Afghanistan, it seems to have done so primarily through existing networks. Rohan Gunaratna has argued that, building on links made in Afghanistan, al-Qaeda tried to infiltrate, with varying success, the European networks of Algerian groups and of the Egyptian group Takfir wa'l-Hijra (although this latter link is contested). If this is the case, the preponderance of recent immigrants of North African origin in al-Qaeda's ranks can be explained by the fact that al-Qaeda built on North African immigrant networks which were firmly focused on struggles outside Europe.
A movement's success in attracting adherents, according to the frame alignment school of social movement theory, lies primarily in its ability to make its goals, methods and culture resonate with potential recruits. Those who have more recently come from areas of conflict, or still have close links with family or friends in those areas, are more likely to be attracted by al-Qaeda or its radical partners, because of their type of life experience. Moreover, those who are recent migrants, particularly those without families and ready access to local communities, are more readily amenable to radicalisation because they are more likely to be cut-off or, as Farhad said, less likely to have a buffer around them. Conversely, to those who have grown up in Europe, despite experiences of occasional police violence, discrimination or exclusion, al-Qaeda's goals, and particularly its methods, are more likely to appear unnecessarily radical - and unlikely to improve the situation of Muslims in Europe. It is one thing to try and generate an uprising amongst Muslims in Egypt against Mubarak. That same kind of logic cannot be applied to a minority group in Britain. Similarly, a 'Clash of Civilisations' scenario is perhaps attractive to some if you live outside 'the West', but not if you are a minority Muslim in Europe since that would not particularly help you secure your livelihood.
A similar argument may help explain why, cultural differences aside, al-Qaeda's European operatives are predominantly Arab. Most European Pakistani and Turkish communities have been long-established, creating very different life experiences. But even recently arrived migrants, or those established immigrants who have become socially uprooted and so more amenable to radicalism, are unlikely recruits since al-Qaeda, like many such groups, typically recruits by way of organisational or tribal affiliation, as a proxy for guaranteeing trustworthiness. Al-Qaeda originated among the Arabs who fought in Afghanistan. When some of them moved to Europe, they naturally made links with trusted Arab networks.
Moving on to the next characteristic, many al-Qaeda suspects come from relatively well-off families and/or have had a western university education (although again, there are exceptions like Richard Reid who came from a marginalised background). If you look at, for example, the Hamburg cell, Muhammad Atta, Mounir el-Motassadeq and Ziad Jarrah each came from wealthy backgrounds and met at university. Benmerzouga, Meziane, Daoudi - the three Algerian suspects arrested in Leicester - all had expert computer knowledge to the extent that they could operate a complex credit card scam and internet-encrypting operation. Zacarias Moussaoui, despite originally coming from a poor background, had likewise attended university and was considered bright by his family, while Ouassini Cherifi, a suspected financial operator for al-Qaeda, had a degree in mathematics and computer sciences. This profile is a far cry from the poorly educated North Africans involved in the wave of terrorist attacks in France in the mid-1990s, or the marginalised youths who typically engage in riots in France and Britain. But it does match the profile of the general European, or Middle Eastern, Islamist activist (violent or not) - as well as that of the typical European terrorist ring leader of the 1970s.
A significant number of suspects appear to have become radicalised inside Europe. Although this process often involved a visit to Afghanistan, the initial radicalisation seems to have happened here. Witnesses at the trial of the Moroccan Mounir el-Motassadeq, who had come to Germany in 1993, aged 18, and was allegedly part of the Hamburg cell, painted a picture of a group of immigrant students increasingly adopting a more radical worldview and lifestyle through a particular mosque they attended - which, incidentally, raises the question whether al-Qaeda particularly targets students because they have long-term visas and relative freedom of movement inside Europe. Zacarias Moussaoui, the French Moroccan, similarly became radicalised in London. In both instances, the radicalisation appears to have been facilitated by physical separation from family and local community. Moussaoui's brother, for example, who seems to have acted as a surrogate father figure, claims that Zacarias only became radicalised once he left for London and gradually broke off contact with his elder brother. Similarly, Moussaoui's radicalisation seems to have been fuelled by a growing sense of rejection by mainstream society - a sense which grew not primarily out of his feeling marginalised from the start, but from rubbing shoulders with mainstream society followed by the gradual realisation that he would never wholly break into it.
It is not clear what role rejection played in the Hamburg cell's motivation, or that of the mathematics graduate Oussani Cherifi, who ended up as a head receptionist at an international hotel chain. But given the role social exclusion plays generally in motivating young men of more than average ability and high expectations to turn to terrorism, it would not be surprising if a sense of rejection contributed to the Hamburg cell's radicalisation. If, on the other hand, people like Cherifi were 'well-integrated', as the media claim he was, and if more cases like his come to light, then this would have serious implications for both intelligence services and future faith/race relations, since that would mean that al-Qaeda has the power to radicalise people whose life experience does not suggest they are susceptible to this kind of radicalisation. This leads back to Farhad's point that the sense of humiliation his interviewees felt came from viewing television images of what happened in Palestine rather than from something that happened in their own lives.
Though al-Qaeda has been successful in building a small, dedicated network of operatives, at least once, it has failed to generate a constituency which would allow it to operate from within Europe's Muslim communities, in the way that 'classical' resistance movements such as the IRA or Hamas have managed to do. Reports that al-Qaeda has dispatched battle-hardened operatives into Europe to counter the War on Terror, true or false, only serve to highlight that al-Qaeda is an external force. Though terrorism only needs a small number of dedicated operatives to function, a long-term campaign is still hampered by lack of local support - in terms of providing insider knowledge, backup, logistical support, and after-operation cover (suicide operators may die in the attempt, but they are generally supported by backup teams).
Al-Qaeda may have indeed managed to win sympathy among a significant number of European Muslims, if polls are anything to go by. Of Muslims surveyed in Britain last December, 56% of respondents thought that al-Qaeda was not to blame for 9/11, while 8% believed al-Qaeda was justified in attacking Britain. This, however, appears to be more a function of distrust in US statements and disgust at US policies, than sympathy for al-Qaeda's methods (particularly given that so many do not hold al-Qaeda responsible for 9/11). The justification for violence against Britain, moreover, seems to be motivated by the view that Britain erroneously invaded Afghanistan, rather than by al-Qaeda having the God-given right to attack. More worryingly for the future of the government's relations with its Muslim citizens, and a coup for al-Qaeda, is that 70% of respondents believed that the War on Terror was in reality a war against Islam. But scepticism about the aims of the war on terror and al-Qaeda's complicity in 9/11, does not necessarily translate into active support for al-Qaeda - particularly given that 67% said they felt patriotic about Britain (only 10% less than the general population), and political frustrations, even in the wake of the War on Terror, have generally been expressed through largely democratic channels: demonstrations (e.g. February 15), trade and student union votes, calls for deselecting pro-war Labour MPs (e.g. Jack Straw), and using the upcoming local and Scottish elections to strengthen the anti-war lobby.
How this precarious balance will evolve is unclear. At the moment, the sense of exclusion in Britain is mitigated by the sense of belonging to a larger anti-war network. But that network may loose its vitality as the war comes to a close. In France, anti-war unity between government and Muslim citizens has been much more pronounced. In the post-Saddam era, when politicians may want to get a finger in Iraq's pie, this unity might disintegrate. Given that there are plenty of young men with local social grievances, plenty of international situations Muslims may be radicalised by, and an organisation to channel these grievances into terrorism, European Muslims might be persuaded to turn to terrorism.
There are three reasons why this is, at least presently, unlikely. First, al-Qaeda's ideology does not address the problems European Muslims typically encounter, or resonate with the typical life experience of a European Muslim. Its utopianist Wahhabi interpretation of Islam sits uncomfortably with the various forms of Islam practised by European Muslims.
Second, there are still perceived to be enough alternative ways to express grievances to make al-Qaeda an unattractive choice. This is partly a function of the perceived success of accommodationist Islamists within Europe in meeting European Muslim needs. The Muslim Association of Britain (MAB), for example, proved to be more effective in channelling Muslim fury into a democratic path by co-organising the anti-war demonstration of February 15 than many of the traditional leaders of the various Muslim communities. Groups like MAB are developing a democratic Islamism, which is sufficiently radical to attract the alienated before groups like al-Qaeda can get a hand on them, yet within democratic limits. Their instance on operating as Islamists rather than secularists, however, poses major challenges to our secular-liberal paradigms.
Thirdly, Europe's populations are presently perceived by many Muslims as much needed allies against US imperial designs. A terrorist strategy that specifically targets European citizens is thus increasingly hard to sell - particularly now that an alternative arena of potential confrontation has opened up in Iraq, for those who wish to fight American 'imperialism'.
In conclusion, the above reflections suggest that it is vital to shift the emphasis from simply combating al-Qaeda cells to understanding why people become attracted to al-Qaeda, and trying to change the social and political structures that make such a radicalisation likely. This may mean a rethinking of our approach to multiculturalism, of economic policies, of educational policies. It also calls for a 'de-securitisation' of accommodationist Islamism and a concerted effort at including accommodationists in the political system so that alternatives to violence become more attractive. This holds for Europe, but it also holds for the Middle East. The more accommodationist Islamists are included in Middle Eastern politics, the less appeal al-Qaeda will have. The political evolution Hizballah is undergoing in Lebanon is an example of what can be done through political inclusion. Such a process can, and should, be encouraged through changes in our foreign policy - and, though Bush and Blair may disagree, not necessarily by military means! This may, however, mean a fundamental restructuring of global economic relations. Whichever course is adopted, Europe's foreign policy will need to take domestic Muslim sentiment on board if it is to counter al-Qaeda's appeal. Thank you.
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