It is tempting to see the executive order by American president Donald Trump pertaining to immigration as evidence of an erratic and right-wing populist leader. But that would be a mistake.
The order that banned citizens from seven predominantly Muslim countries is actually far worse than that. It’s a signal of a virulent form of western sectarianism – and its proponents are now embedded in the very heart of the most powerful nation in the world. There are wide-ranging consequences to that, going far beyond the events of the past few days. It ought to be clear that anti-Muslim sentiment is widespread within parts of the western political establishment. It was used to devastating effect during the United States presidential election and during the Brexit campaign. It is also likely to be used in many European national elections that will take place this year. But “Trumpism” has taken this phenomenon to a new level.
There are a number of reasons why it is particularly concerning. The first is that, even though the president himself is hardly an ideologue, he has brought hardcore ideologues into the White House. It ought to be a source of great and terrible alarm that the likes of Steve Bannon, who holds far-right views, sits on the national security council. He’s not the only troubling figure. Michael Flynn as well as a slew of other advisers to the president have similar views.
Getting the arguments around counterextremism is important enough and, patently, the president doesn’t get them right. In that regard, he’s perhaps not unique. In fact, so many governments around the world make mistakes in that regard. But the president goes much further than errors or miscalculations – he has begun to entrench the counter-terrorism narrative into a deeply sectarian discourse.
Consider his exemptions to the refugee ban: he openly insists that if refugees from Iraq or Syria come from “religious minorities” and can show they are being persecuted, they may gain entry. In other words, Muslims who are persecuted by ISIL – and they are the majority of those persecuted – must suffer.
The president went on this week to bring up the spectre of Christians being killed in the Middle East in “large numbers”, demanding that it not be allowed to continue. That's not entirely wrong, as Christians have been targeted in Iraq and Syria. Unfortunately, while extremists indulge in sectarianism, authoritarians use Christian minorities to justify their actions. But the largest community suffering in the Middle East is the Muslim community. Naturally so, because they are the majority population. In other words, Muslims and Christians are all in this together, and must stand up together, or be oppressed together.
None of that matters to the president and, indeed, it’s doubtful whether he is even all that interested in protecting those Christians. If he did, perhaps he would listen to the likes of Egyptian Coptic bishop Angaelos, who issued a sharp missive following the declaration of the ban. But it’s probably not going to make much difference to the president that Bishop Angaelos comes from that very community in the Arab world for which he has expressed concern. That’s because it contradicts his narrative.
The president no doubt has good reason to do that. Messages such as these that stir up sectarian division play well with a significant portion of his base in the United States. They may not see him as the best of Christians, but they do see him as representing their interests. Authoritarian regimes play this trick all the time, although Mr Trump has shown that democratic regimes can do precisely the same.
This is why the situation is unique. When the leader of the free world decides to play this sort of game, it has wide-ranging repercussions. It normalises sectarianism at the highest possible levels, whether in the United States or in the wider West. And, lest we forget, among extremists, of the Islamist variety or otherwise. Mr Trump has just regularised that discourse, in a way that no one else could.
There is an appropriate response to this kind of development, and it means a complete rejection of that kind of discourse. That is possible. Consider the protests and expressions of outrage in the United States and elsewhere in the West. That alone is inspiring, because most of the protesters, by far, are unaffected by the ban directly. But they uphold a certain set of values that they are unwilling to abjure. So should the rest of us – whether in the United States, Europe, or beyond. Otherwise, four years from now, even if Mr Trump loses the White House, the acceptability of such discourse remains. And it may only worsen from there.
Dr HA Hellyer is a senior non-resident fellow at the Atlantic Council in Washington and the Royal United Services Institute in London
On Twitter: @hahellyer