Earlier this week, it was claimed that Jihadi John, a British radical who is the poster-boy for ISIL’s propaganda videos, had been identified as Mohammed Emwazi. Cage, a British campaign group, later asserted it knew Emwazi, and argued that his radicalisation was partly due to harassment from the British security services. Ten years ago, others argued that another action of the British state, in this case foreign policy, led to the July 7 attacks on London. Others argue that such background information has no relevance at all, and it is really simply about ideological motivations and nothing more. Who is right?
Emwazi was harassed by the security services – that much is not in doubt. Cage knows this because the young Londoner made several complaints to the organisation, which lobbies on behalf of Muslims who have been affected by western security responses after 9/11. It described Emwazi as a “beautiful young man”, who was subjected to harassment, which was a “causal factor” in his eventually becoming Jihadi John.
So who is to blame for his radicalisation? The British security services are certainly not above criticism. But the notion that harassment from the UK’s security services somehow pushed anyone into becoming a killer is ludicrous.
Those who wish to argue that security measures were so instrumental in Emwazi’s transformation need to ask themselves some serious questions. In the UK alone, there are plenty of people who have had more altercations with the British security services. Worldwide, activists of all kinds have had rather intense encounters with security services. But that did not transform the likes of Malcolm X or Mahatma Gandhi, for example, into Jihadi Johns.
There is an awkward conclusion that might be drawn if this argument were accepted. Implicitly, it casts Muslims as being somehow particularly susceptible to radicalisation. That patently isn’t the case – otherwise we’d see far more recruits across a population of 1.5 billion.
There is also the issue of explaining many other radicals. The now infamous Shami Witness, an Indian pro-ISIL propagandist, was not harassed by security services, but he was an active propagandist for ISIL. Nor was Malaysian youth leader Lotfi Ariffin – but he eventually died in Syria fighting for ISIL.
The counterargument, of course, is that no background factors ought to be considered in understanding how radicalisation operates, that it is all simply about a specific ideological interpretation of religion. There are further disagreements about how authentic that interpretation might be. Certainly, many would support that counterargument.
There are those in the West, such as former British prime minister Tony Blair, who would also dispute any role at all with regards to western foreign policy in Muslim majority countries and the effect on radicalisation. The counter- argument immunises them against looking back at the bad choices they’ve made.
Neither of these approaches is particularly useful – because they simplify the radicalisation process to a “one size fits all” view. All studies of radicalisation indicate the situation is far more complex than that.
Certainly, a particular ideological interpretation of religion provides a moral justification for radicals to operate. At the same time, what allows for individuals to become susceptible to that interpretation?
Here, the answer can never be generalised, because different recruits come through different doors. Context and background do, of course, play a great role in understanding the path that a radical has taken – but no two paths are going to be the same.
Against that complexity, it is perhaps best not to talk about definitive and always conclusive causes of radicalisation in that fashion – because there are going to be a plethora of factors in that background, and they will vary greatly. One person may react to certain factors, while another may not.
Nevertheless, after all is said and done, one has to be clear that each individual remains responsible for his or her own actions. No one held a gun to Emwazi’s head and said he had to kill anyone.
He is culpable for his own actions – and to blur that line comes dangerously close to converting him into some sort of automaton who cannot make his own choices. It also leads us to forget how so many others in our time – as well as historically – withstood all sorts of pressures and became heroes.
Dr HA Hellyer is an associate fellow of the Royal United Services Institute in London, and the Centre for Middle East Policy at the Brookings Institution in Washington DC
On Twitter: @hahellyer