(See Prelude and Part 1)
The Frame
Radical Islam has always been a teaching movement. The movement’s founder, Hasan al-Banna, was a professional educator, and early designs for his organization, the Muslim Brotherhood, integrate youth education, physical training (“scouting”) and what we would describe as “public service.” It’s a cradle to grave vision of Muslim community that guarantees a “next generation.” It’s also a successful model, repeated and modified often among other radical Islamist groups, many of which are off shoots of the Brotherhood, including Al Qaeda. It’s why the presence of a first generation of radicalized Muslim in a community practically guarantees the presence of a second, and so on. It’s also why Al Qaeda’s emirs tend to be from the ranks of camp trainers; they should be natural teachers.
“To the new generation,” Al-Hindi writes in the Acknowledgments, “…just remember, the term “Mujahid” does not belong to anyone for keeps; it is only a borrowed one…”
Al Qaeda’s emir club represented a second generation of operational leadership who benefited from the group’s secure and thriving locations in Afghanistan. Terry McDermott describes this camp complex in his 2005 book, Perfect Soldiers, which at “its high point encompassed more than fifty locations, under the supervision of various national fighting groups…” It was, he writes, “hierarchical.
The main camps were sorting and marshaling years where dueling jihadist groups competed for recruits…Men graduated from there to other camps, often passing through two, three, or even four locations…”
There they may have benefited from the religious and ideological insights of one of Al Qaeda’s key strategists, Abu Mu’sab al-Suri and other ideologues. They would have received basic and advanced military training from experienced mujahideen, and they would have networked with men from all over the world.
A mujahideen’s experience in the camps was often succeeded with experience in a real jihad. When Al-Hindi attended the camps in the mid-1990s, mujahideen wannabes could chose from several different active regional jihads, including Bosnia and Chechnya. He chose Kashmir, or perhaps it chose him.
Al-Hindi was born in India into a Hindu family; his given name is Dhiren. His parents emigrated to the UK, and according to newspaper accounts, the family was and continues to be, respectable, middle-class Brits. However, as is so often the case with the profile of Al Qaeda operatives, Al-Hindi’s conversion and steadily developing radicalism comes as a surprise to his family and friends, and was most likely a source of tension. The book’s publisher acknowledges Al-Hindi’s family tensions. “What is most unusual about this book,” the Publisher’s Notes says,
“…is the author himself. It is so rare for people in our age to take on the struggle for the sake of Allah. So image someone who comes from a non-Muslim background, struggling first against himself, then those around him from friends and family…”
From the very beginning of Army, I was struck by how thoroughly Al-Hindi has erased his Hindu identity. Throughout the book he describes the Indian Army, and Hindus in general, with pejoratives – heathen, for example -- that would have probably upset many of his family members and former friends. His radicalization is so complete that he no longer recognizes either an Indian or a British identity, and instead identifies entirely with the Kashmiri mujahideen and the movement of “revolutionary Pan-jihadism.”
The book itself is clearly written for young men who are already radicalized as a way of motivating them to join the jihad. For instance, Al-Hindi takes for granted that the reader will be familiar with certain of the prophet Mohammed’s sayings without references or citations, such as the books dedication to “the thousands of Shuhadaa who fell under the Kashmiri moon…they will be placed in the hearts of green birds, roaming therein as they please.” “Hearts of green birds,” is reference to a popular hadith (saying of Mohammed) among radical Islamists and jihadists, and has been the inspiration for numerous pro-jihadist works, including a (c. late 90s) audio production dedicated to muj who were killed in Bosnia.
A second possible audience may have been local businessmen and community leaders who could finance recruitment and overseas training programs, and his own operations, but I will leave that discussion for later.
In the role of teacher, Al-Hindi is thinking of the new generation that he hopes will be inspired by his work. Like a lot of what I read within the Salafist and Jihadist traditions, Al-Hindi makes no distinction between jihad now and the jihad of “centuries old and past.” He goes on (using somewhat poetic language):
They have all fatefully found their places in one of the abundant seas that are the martyr cemeteries that sprout forth in this beautiful land as profusely as do the fields of rice.
In the role of teacher he is careful to “frame” the Kashmir jihad as a defensive jihad against a occupying force, in this case the Indian army. The frame consists of a-historical “facts,” (Indian “invasion” of Pakistan in 1947, etc), and a litany of exaggerated anecdotal examples of Muslim “sufferings.” The “mujahideen” are always shown to be pure-hearted and poorly-funded “davids” fighting whatever brutal goliath is the target of the jihad.
It was a popular frame during the Soviet-Afghan war. It was effective during the 90s-era jihads (see Evan Kohlmann’s report, “The Afghan-Bosnian Mujahideen Network in Europe” for more on the vast radical Islamist recruitment and fundraising network active in Europe in the 1990s) in Chechnya and Bosnia. And it is used with brutal effectiveness in practically every major Al Qaeda video produced and distributed today over the Internet. If Al-Hindi was writing in 2007 rather than 1999, he would have been creating a movie script and working with a director and editor. Instead he quotes Khalil Gibran’s The Garden of the Prophet, “Pity the nation…”
The frame serves another purpose; it justifies the righteousness of the Kashmiri jihad. Without a sound justification for the jihad, it would be difficult to raise money and find recruits. The goal of the frame appears to be to prove that Kashmir is a defensive jihad rather than an offensive jihad, because it is easier to prove the righteousness of a defensive jihad, especially to young men raised in Western cultures that generally eschew any form of offensive war.
I’m certainly not the only one who has noticed this rhetorical frame. Even as I typed this today a TOC alert arrived in my in-box for the new issue of Studies in Conflict & Terrorism that includes a new article by Johnny Ryan of the Institute of International and European Affairs. The article’s title “The Four P-Words of Militant Islamist Radicalization and Recruitment: Persecution, Precedent, Piety, and Perseverance” and abstract discuss this very phenomenon. The rhetorical frame is also discussed in a wonderful RadioFreeEurope/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL) study of jihadi media in post-invasion Iraq.
To complete the frame Al-Hindi reinforces the divine nature of defensive jihad by quoting from the Quran (4:75)
An what is wrong with you that you fight not in the Cause of Allah…
Then he gets down to business.