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FEATURES: The French Path to Jihad
By John Rosenthal
Islamist inmates tell their stories
I understood that I was different, that I was not
French, that I would never become French and that I had no business trying
to become French either. I took it well. I was proud of my new Muslim
identity. Not to be French, to be Muslim, just that: Algerian too, but,
above all, Muslim. That was my reconquest of myself, my burst of lucidity,
my awakening. I was rid of the malaise from which I had suffered and all of
a sudden I felt good about myself: no more impossible dreams, no more
desire to become part of this France that did not want me. And, above all,
I started to nourish a tremendous hatred toward the Fascist regime that had
rejected the vote of the Algerian people for Islamic rule.
— “Ousman,”
an Algerian-born Islamist in French prison1
I have a more technical point to — today. I
stand here as a French citizen. I want to make clear that I am not French
and have no relation. I’m a sworn enemy of France. So I want to make
this in the record that I’m not French, okay? I tell you I am a
Muslim, and I have nothing to do with a nation of homosexual Crusaders. And
I am not a frog. That’s the first thing. . . .
— Zacarias
Moussaoui, to the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia,
February 14, 20062
How does one become a jihadist? Just how unprepared Americans have been
to confront this question was made embarrassingly clear during the recent
trial of Zacarias Moussaoui as large parts of the established media dwelt
thoughtfully on Moussaoui’s broken family and childhood spells in an
orphanage — as if such banal details could somehow account for the
behavior of a man who has pledged allegiance to Osama Bin Laden, been found
guilty of plotting to fly a jetliner into the White House in connection
with the 9/11 plot,
and testified to his readiness to kill Americans “anytime,
anywhere”3 every day until his death. Moussaoui was apparently supposed
to be just like you and me — the defense witness who recounted for
the court the allegedly sad story of young Zacarias was a social worker
from Greenville, South Carolina — only not as well-adjusted. At the
other extreme, a current of opinion has emerged that is widely represented
in the “new” media and that offers a ready-made and
conveniently foreshortened answer to the question: one that spares the
investigator all need to enter into the details of individual life
histories. How does one become a jihadist? By being a Muslim. For the
representatives of this current, whose more or less openly avowed
“Islamophobia” can easily degrade into simple racism, the
jihadist threat is entirely a product of Islam or the “Muslim
world” and consequently wholly alien to “the West.”
It is a pity that, in effect, none of the media
— neither the old media nor the new — took advantage of the
unique opportunity provided by the Moussaoui trial to seek more convincing
answers. To this day, for instance, despite the sensation created by
Moussaoui’s decision to take the stand, the full transcript of his
testimony has never been published. If Americans were able to consider the
portrait of Moussaoui that emerges from his own words, what they would
discover is a figure who is neither so familiar as the sympathetic
psychotherapeutic accounts in the old media suggest nor so alien as the
theories of the new media pundits would lead one to assume. Of course, it
would be hazardous to attempt to generalize from the single case of
Zacarias Moussaoui. But a just-published collection of interviews with
suspected members of al Qaeda in French prisons, Quand Al-Qäida parle: Témoignages derrière les
barreaux (When al Qaeda Talks:
Testimonials from Behind Bars), provides us with an unprecedentedly large
body of evidence on the backgrounds, worldview, and motivations of those
who make the choice for violent jihad in the name of Islam.
The interviews were conducted between 2001 and 2003 by Farhad Khosrokhavar of
France’s preeminent social science faculty, the École des
Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales. The inmates typically protest
their innocence of the charges against them, which is only to be expected
given the circumstances of the interviews and is even more comprehensible
in light of the suspicions they harbor with respect to Khosrokhavar.
Virtually all the interviewees at some point express their concern that
Khosrokhavar might be working for the French domestic intelligence service,
the Renseignements généraux. Nonetheless, they make no secret of their adherence to a
radical or “rigorist” practice of Islam, nor of their
acceptance of violent jihad as a legitimate — and, under certain
circumstances, even obligatory — aspect of it. In more unguarded
moments, some admit their own participation in jihad: either implicitly and
without entering into details or explicitly in relation to actions —
for instance, fighting with foreign mujahideen forces in the Bosnian civil
war — that will not complicate their legal situation in France.
Others reflect openly upon joining the jihad — in order, most often,
to fight against the U.S. and Israel — upon their release. Still
others seem indeed to have merely had casual contacts with jihadist
circles, a fact that under France’s remarkably broadly written
statute on “criminal associations” was sufficient to earn them
prison time. Even the members of the latter group, however, do not hide
their admiration for the jihadists whose friendship or acquaintance has
landed them in jail.
In addition to the ten interviews with the suspected
al Qaeda members, the Khosrokhavar volume also includes four interviews
with other inmates, for the most part convicted on lesser charges, who
might best be described as fellow travelers. (One of these, a convert to
Islam, has also been charged with membership in a “criminal
association” preparing a terrorist act, so it is not clear why he is
treated separately from the ten al Qaeda.) The subjects of the Khosrokhavar
interviews defy the stock image that many Western observers will have of
Islamists as highly exotic Arabic-speakers from the Middle East. On the
contrary, they are, in effect, “Western” or at least
“nearly Western.” They all speak fluent French, and French for
the most part — not Arabic — is their mother tongue. The
learning of Arabic — in order to be able to read the Quran in the
original — is indeed frequently mentioned in the interviews as a
crucial stage in the process of the inmates’ Islamic radicalization.
Several of the inmates — perhaps as many as half — were born in
France, including the convert. The rest come from the Maghreb, the formerly
French-controlled territories of the southern shore of the Mediterranean,
with the largest contingent from Algeria. All but one, however, have lived
for extensive periods in France. (The one exception is
“Mohammad,” the veteran of the Bosnian war, who astonishingly
claims never to have set foot in France prior to his extradition.) Most are
French citizens; some have earned advanced degrees from French
universities; and even if they happen to have grown up in the Maghreb,
French culture, as their testimonials make abundantly clear, has been a
constant point of reference in their lives.4
While Khosrokhavar’s sample of Islamists may not
be “typical,” in light of this strong French connection, the
fact is that Islamism as a self-consciously transnational ideology —
in this respect, as in so many others, resembling twentieth-century
Marxism-Leninism — draws its adherents from widely different parts of
the globe: both from the Dar al-Islam, the traditional Islamic lands, and from the Dar al-Dawa, the lands of
Islamic proselytism. In contemporary Islamist discourse — in the
fatwas of Yusuf Al-Qaradawi, head of the European Council for Fatwa and
Research, for example, or in the writings of Qaradawi’s admirer Tariq
Ramadan — Europe precisely represents a privileged terrain for Dawa: for proselytism.5 It is thus
distinguished from, say, Russia or Israel or, for that matter, the United
States, all of which, as judged by the practice of the jihadists, clearly
fall within the Dar al-Harb: the lands “of war” targeted for military defeat.
The importance, moreover, of what might be called the
specifically French “path to jihad” for the Islamist movement
in general should not be underestimated. In 2002, Antoine Sfeir, director of the respected French journal of
Middle Eastern affairs, Les Cahiers
d’Orient, estimated that some 50 young people from the Lyon
vicinity alone had left France to join al Qaeda and the Taliban in
Afghanistan. Seven French nationals are known to have been held prisoner at
the American detention center in Guantanamo. (All seven have, in the
meanwhile, been turned over to French authorities.) In addition, the
complete list of Guantanamo detainees released by the Department of Defense
in May features no fewer than 52 citizens of the countries of the French-speaking Maghreb: 25 Algerians, 15 Moroccans, and 12 Tunisians. Taken together with the
French nationals, this gives a total comparable to that of Pakistan —
even though the total population of the four countries together is
substantially lower than that of Pakistan. According to French press
reports citing French intelligence sources, anywhere from seven to ten
persons from France (nationals or residents) have been killed in Iraq while
taking part in the anti-American, anti-government insurgency, and several
others have been captured.6 In October 2004, 18-year-old
Abdelhalim Badjoudj of Paris’s nineteenth arrondissement blew himself
up in a car packed with explosives in a suicide attack against an American
patrol in Baghdad. A second French national is supposed to have died
committing a suicide attack in Iraq some six months later. (A Francophone
Belgian convert to Islam, Muriel Degauque, should also be mentioned in this
connection. In November 2005, Degauque became the first European woman to commit a suicide
attack in Iraq.)
And then, of course, there is the most famous French
jihadist of all: Zacarias Moussaoui.7 As with the subjects of the Khosrokhavar interviews,
Moussaoui’s relationship to France is “conflicted,” to
say the least. Nonetheless, when, early on in the court proceedings against
him and in an apparent gesture of multicultural sensitivity, Judge Leonie
Brinkema advised Moussaoui that he would in her court have to abide by
rules with which he might be unfamiliar from “his culture,”
Moussaoui pointedly replied: “by the way, I’m born in France,
educated — I have a masters degree in international business.
I’m fully acquainted with western system of justice, okay? I never
live in the Middle East country or in Arabic country, okay?”8
The primordial enemy
The khosrokhavar
interviews burst numerous clichés about
the jihadists and the sources of their militancy. Lest anyone still cling
to the illusion that the root cause of Islamic terror is poverty and
economic inequality, for instance, the interviews massively reinforce the
findings of the already substantial body of research on Arab Islamists
showing that jihadists are largely recruited from relatively more
privileged social strata in their countries of origin. As a rule, the
inmates interviewed are highly educated, well-traveled, and multilingual.
One “Ousman” interrupts his interview to grill Khosrokhavar
about the geographical distribution of his sample population. If the sample
is not well distributed, he warns, “it’s not valid, it’s
not scientific” — before adding encouragingly, “you are
the pioneers for this type of study” (148). The inmates’ more or less openly avowed enthusiasm
for jihad is clearly not the product of a spontaneous reaction to desperate
circumstances, but rather the outcome of an often highly intellectualized
process of reflection.
A few of the inmates are evidently from poorer
backgrounds and less educated. But, with one exception, they figure among
the fellow travelers. They notably include, for instance, two young
French-born inmates: a “young banlieusard” of Moroccan ancestry and “Jacques,” a
self-avowed “anti-white” racist who was raised by his
French-Caribbean mother in Paris. These are precisely the inmates whose
connection not only to Islamism, but to Islam as such, is the most tenuous.
Their crimes are more a matter of juvenile delinquency than anything even
remotely resembling terrorism. As the interviews show, the Islamist
movement exerts an obvious attraction upon such troubled young people from
France’s housing projects and banlieues, whether they are of Arab origin or not. But this attraction
would seem to be chiefly a function of the “anti-systemic” aura
of rebellion surrounding the Islamist movement rather than the content of
Islamic — much less Islamist — doctrine per se. “Islam
disturbs people,” notes Jacques, “and for me that’s a
good sign. A religion that denounces the imperialism of the white man
can’t be all bad” (217).
This relative indifference of Islam to the
“Islamist” posturing of the youngest French-born inmates speaks
against the theory — which seems to be gaining traction on the right,
both within Europe and without — according to which the mere fact of
immigration to Europe from Arab countries predestines the continent to
“Islamization” and someday even Islamic rule. So, too, does
another remarkable fact that emerges in the course of the Khosrokhavar
interviews: that many — perhaps the majority — even of those
inmates who obviously merit being described as Islamists come precisely
from non-practicing
or, so to say, barely practicing families. “He’s a slacker
Muslim (musulman fainéant),” complains one “Moussa” about his
father (47). The
rigorism of their Islamic faith is clearly not inherited, but rather
acquired. The same, indeed, is true of Zacarias Moussaoui, whose mother,
according to Moussaoui’s brother Abd Samad Moussaoui, resolutely
refused to teach her children about Islam and took to celebrating Christmas
when Zacarias and Abd Samad were teenagers.9
It is in this connection that the learning of Arabic
takes on its full significance in the biographies of many of the inmates.
Several of the inmates place great emphasis on the importance of reading
the Quran in the original and, as one “Ahsen” puts it,
“without any intermediary” (63). Even inmates whose connection to Islam is more
superficial and who do not know Arabic recognize this as a worthy goal.
“For me reading the Quran was a real revelation, an inner
awakening,” says Ahsen, who admits to having spent several years in
Afghanistan with the Taliban. “I came to realize that one had to
fight against the mulhidun (heretics) and the rafhidun (deviants),10 against the people of other religions who oppose
Islam” (63).
In light of the violence associated with Islamism, it has become common to
hear from Western observers that Islam as such needs to pass through its
“reformation.” But the emphasis placed by these inmates on
their personal and unmediated relation to the text of the Quran suggests,
on the contrary, that contemporary Islamism may well be the Islamic equivalent of the
Reformation.11 It is worth recalling in this connection that the historical
Reformation of Christianity also gave rise both to extreme rigorist
currents (Calvinism) and to violent Millenarian sects.
But perhaps the most important — and, in light
of conventional wisdom, surprising — revelation of the Khosrokhavar
interviews concerns the identity of the nation that is virtually without
exception the principal object of the Islamists’ obviously fervent
hatred: a nation that they are convinced despises and humiliates Muslims
and has committed unpardonable crimes against them — namely, France. Hatred of France is the
unifying thread running through the testimonials of the inmates and, as we
shall see, clearly provides the primordial affect that has fueled the
process of their radicalization (or that could fuel such a process in the
case of the younger French-born inmates who have yet to take the plunge
into organized political violence).
As would be expected, the U.S. also comes in for
severe criticism from the inmates. So too, of course, does Israel, which is
often treated — according to the well-known motif shared by Islamists
and a large part of the European left — as of a piece with the U.S.
The alleged “crimes” of Israel against Palestinian Arabs are,
needless to say, a constant refrain, and the complicity of the U.S. in
these “crimes” is taken for granted. It is clear that in the
current state of the global jihad, the U.S. is thus regarded as the
privileged target. France is evidently a lesser priority. Against the
French, the convert remarks condescendingly, “one does not even have
to declare jihad. .
. .”
Nonetheless, in comparison to the passionate and
thickly detailed indictment that Khosrokhavar’s Islamist
interlocutors draw up against France, their hostility toward the U.S. has
an abstract, theoretical air to it. It is, in short, a matter of doctrine.
None of the interviewees exhibit any firsthand knowledge of the United
States, nor could any of them plausibly claim to have witnessed American
mistreatment of Muslims, much less to have been victims of such themselves.
“Mohammad,” for example, the veteran mujahideen who fought in
the Bosnian war, allows: “As much as I detest the Americans, I have
to admit it: the presence of the Americans in Bosnia saved the
Bosniacs” (118). This realization does not, however, prevent him from describing
America as a “mad dog” in need of a good kick (111), nor from observing that on
9/11 Americans
“reaped what they sowed” (117).
By contrast, the hatred of France that the
interviewees express is clearly a heartfelt product of experience, an
experience that has both a historical and a personal dimension. As concerns
the historical dimension, the testimonials of virtually all the suspected
al Qaeda members leave no doubt that the single episode that most
substantially contributed to their radicalization was the military coup in
Algeria in January 1992 — a coup that is widely believed to have been carried out
with French complicity and support. The coup prevented an Islamist party,
the Islamic Salvation Front (fis), from coming to power despite its clear victory in the
first round of voting in elections the previous December. It was followed
by the prohibition of the fis and the mass arrest of fis members.
In the myopic and self-hating (in America) or
exculpatory (in Europe) perspective that seeks an explanation for Islamic
radicalism in supposed American “oppression” of Muslims around
the world, the importance of the Algerian coup and its aftermath is nowhere
to be found. Nonetheless, the Algerian events are a standard reference in
the actual discourse of Islamists, including those, like Zacarias
Moussaoui, who have no personal connection to Algeria. Moussaoui was born
in France of Moroccan parents. When, however, in April 2002 he used the occasion of a
court appearance to read from the Quran and give a more finely grained,
comprehensive account of Muslim grievances in the guise of a prayer,
Algeria was the first item in his list:
To Allah we belong and to Allah we return. I turn to
Allah, the almighty, for all the Muslim and all the Mujahideen. I pray to
Allah, the masterful, for all my brothers in jail like in Algeria,
everywhere in the land of Allah.
I pray to Allah for the return of Andalusia, Spain, to
the Muslim and the liberation of Ceuta and Melilla. I pray to Allah for the
return of India to the Muslims and to [sic] the liberation of Kashmir.
I pray to Allah, . . . the severe in punishment for
the destruction of the Jewish people and states and for the liberation of
Palestine by the Muslim, for the Muslim.
I pray to Allah, the protector, for the destruction of
Russia and the return of the Islamic Emirates of Chechnya. I pray to Allah,
the powerful, for the return of the Islamic Emirates of Afghanistan and the
destruction of the United States of America.12
The 1992 Algerian coup and the presumed role of France in sanctioning both
it and the suppression of the fis that followed is a subject that comes up with striking
regularity in the Khosrokhavar interviews. “Ousman” provides a
particularly detailed account of the events. He returns to the theme
repeatedly throughout his interview, as if it constituted an obsession.
Ousman is a French citizen who was born in Algeria. He is accused of being
a member of both al Qaeda and the Armed Islamic Group (gia). The gia emerged in Algeria in 1992 after the suppression of the fis. It has been held responsible for countless massacres of
civilians in Algeria, as well as for the 1995 bomb attack on the Saint Michel Metro station in Paris
that left eight people dead and dozens wounded.
“France pulled the strings,” Ousman says,
referring to the 1992 coup:
Mitterrand intervened against the fis when he made a declaration that I
heard over the satellite in Algiers. He said he would not tolerate a
“fanatic state” at just an hour by plane from Paris. The
Algerian military did the dirty work and France sanctioned everything. It
did not denounce their actions. It even actively supported them (145).
And again (133):
If the military conducted a coup against the fis, it is because they were
sure to have the support and assistance of France. For many Algerians,
France is by far the single party most responsible for the troubles in
their homeland.
Significantly, Ousman insists he was not a member of
the fis, much less
a partisan of jihad, before the events. It was, on his account, the
annulment of the elections and the subsequent repression that led to his
radicalization (132):
France did not want the fis. But the majority of Algerians wanted it. In 1991, the fis had the majority in Algeria. In 1992, when the coup
d’état occurred, I was not a member of the fis, but just a sympathizer, a Muslim.
A Muslim should defend his religion. I became engaged in the struggle.
Ousman claims to have observed the persecution to
which fis members were subjected firsthand, an experience to which he
traces his decision to engage in jihad (134):
[T]hey created concentration camps in Algeria. 50,000 people were put in a camp
in Reghem [sic, presumably Reggane is meant]. There were friends of mine
and neighbors in this camp. . . . I didn’t have a beard. The
gendarmes didn’t arrest me. . . . Before me, I saw brothers with
beards and they took them away, kicking them as they went. I saw such
things in the street. It was like during the Nazi period, the German ss who came looking for the
Jews. . . . I saw the persecutions with my own eyes. That inspired me to
defend these people. I took part in actions in the framework of jihad, the
holy war.
Returning to the role of France in the Algerian
troubles, Ousman concludes with a telling comparison: “The French
role in Algeria,” he says, “is more vicious than that of the
Jews in occupied Palestine” (144).
French masks, Muslim faces
Ousman also speaks, and with sometimes remarkable eloquence, to the second,
personal, dimension of the experience that, on the account of
Khosrokhavar’s Islamist interlocutors, led them not only to reject
French society, but, in the phrase of Zacarias Moussaoui, to become
France’s “sworn enemies,” namely, what they almost to a
man perceive (or, at any rate, denounce) as French racism. The feelings the
inmates express toward France in this connection are not necessarily
without nuance and complexity. Indeed, Ousman’s account of what he
presents as his failed attempt at assimilation into French society
resembles a tale of unrequited love — a love that, precisely by
virtue of its lack of reciprocation, is transformed into hate. Here again
it is worth quoting from his interview at length (135–36):
Earlier, France was my model — even if I also
resented this. But my ideal was to be French, to act like the French: to
have my wife, my kids, my car, my apartment, my house in the country, to
become an average Frenchman and live in peace. . . . [E]ven before I had
French citizenship or I had work, in my mind, I wanted to conform to the
image of the average Frenchman, to be like them, to make myself in their
image. But at the same time I had the feeling that this was more or less
impossible: they didn’t want me, even if I had citizenship and all
the rest. They looked down on me, they treated me like I was nothing, they
despised me. This contempt was killing me. Were we really so despicable? .
. . I went back and forth between what I was and what I wanted to be: a
little Frenchman. Whereas I was an Algerian. I was tortured by it. Some
days, I couldn’t fall asleep, I had the impression that my life had
no meaning, that my part in life had been unjustly denied me.
Islam was my salvation. I understood what I was: a
Muslim. Someone with dignity, whom the French despised because they
didn’t fear me enough. Thanks to Islam, the West respects us in a
certain way. One is scared of us. We’re treated as fanatics, as holy
madmen, as violent people who do not hesitate to die or to kill. But one
doesn’t despise us anymore. That is the achievement of Islamism. Now,
we are respected. Hated, but respected.
Ousman describes the process of his coming to Islam
— in effect, on the “bounce-back” from what he perceives
as his rejection by French society — as an “awakening,”
as his “reconquest of my self.”
Even if the accounts of the other inmates do not
attain the degree of psychological vividness of Ousman’s, it is
remarkable how often the same motif — of a “false”
attempt to be or “become” French versus the
“authentic” Muslim “self” — is repeated in
their testimonials. The younger French-born inmates from immigrant families
are, as a rule, particularly categorical about the
“impossibility” of their “becoming French” —
even though, from a legal standpoint, they are and always have been —
and about the discrimination from which they claim to have suffered. Thus,
the “young banlieusard” reports (280):
I have French citizenship. Even if it is written
“French nationality” on your identity card, in the eyes of the
French you are not French. And, by the way, I don’t feel French any
more than I feel Moroccan. I’m a Muslim: a true Muslim who
doesn’t want to let himself be stepped on anymore.
Nonetheless, there is reason to doubt that his charges
of French racism amount to much more than alibi-making. At the same time,
he admits that his brothers and sisters are continuing with their studies
and that they feel “at home” in France. “They’re
frenchified,” he complains. “They’ve lost their roots,
lost their honor, lost their sense of Islam” (292).
It is important to note that in the most
psychologically informative accounts, the primary feeling is of “not
being French.” The “discovery” that the
“authentic” — or, at any rate, “not French”
— self is in fact Muslim is a secondary interpretation of this sense of
“otherness.” Thus, even an inmate like Jacques, who is not Muslim and who has had very
little personal connection to Islam, can claim that, by virtue of his
“otherness” and his eagerness to defy the alleged racism of
“the French,” he is, in effect, Muslim (219):
To become someone who is feared, if not respected, one
has to be openly Muslim. Islam liberates. In this sense, I feel very
Muslim. I even do Ramadan with my “beur” [North African]
brothers. I’m ready to embrace the religion of Allah. I’m
already Muslim in body and soul.
The same motif is present in the interviews with some
of the more “well-versed,” doctrinaire Islamists, those who
seem also to have had the most substantial involvement in jihad.
“Ahsen” is an Algerian-born Salafist: an adherent of the most
rigorist current in Islam, which holds that Muslims should live as did the
Prophet Muhammad and his earliest followers in the seventh century. He has
fought with the Taliban in Afghanistan. But he also has a degree in the
natural sciences from a Parisian university and a “native
French” wife. In his account, psychological pathos has given way to
cold, dogmatic certitudes. Nonetheless, the thematic is the same.
“One imitates them,” he says, referring to
“Westerners” in general, “and one thinks that’s
good and one tries to become a little Westerner, even though the West
despises us and finds us even more hideous when we imitate it. The Muslim
loses his dignity and his sense of honor and becomes like a monkey who
imitates his master: the West” (67). Asked by Khosrokhavar how he came to the realization that
“the West” is inducing Muslims to “renounce what they
are,” he responds: “by living here [in France]” (68). “We no longer have a
genuine ego,” Ahsen concludes, and he offers his prescription for
recapturing it: “That’s what jihad is for” (69).
In a similar vein, “Hassan” says that in
France, “I felt that I was in danger of losing my personality”
(170). Hassan
has been charged in connection with the case of Djamel Beghal, who was
arrested in July 2001 and convicted last year on charges of plotting to conduct a
terrorist attack against the American embassy in Paris. It should be noted
that Hassan appears to have been born in France and never to have lived
anywhere else. Like Ousman — though without the wealth of
psychological detail that lends credibility to Ousman’s account
— he claims early on in life to have perceived the impossibility of
gaining acceptance in French society. He talks in particular about seeing
his younger sister return home from school in tears one day after having
been called a “dirty Arab.” “At that point,” he
says, “I started to ask more radical questions, I wondered if I was
really so French after all” (176). Somewhat contradictorily, however, Hassan seems to
suggest that the principal danger to his “personality” lay
precisely in the prospect of succeeding. Hassan holds a degree in applied physics from a Parisian
university and claims to have been “a rather brilliant
student.” But, he says, “I stopped my studies. It was a choice:
a voluntary suicide” (169). He continues (172):
In France, a part of my personality was under attack,
pushing me toward schizophrenia. It was under attack from infancy. I had
the choice between schizophrenia as a Frenchman and the recovery of my
identity in struggle against this society that denies me my dignity and the
most ancestral part of my identity.
On Hassan’s account, then — and it should
be underscored that Hassan clearly belongs to the intellectuals among the
inmates — the actual “racism” of French society consists
precisely in its expectation of assimilation into a culture that he
assumes, in the manner of a metaphysical axiom, is not his own. It is thus
unsurprising that he expresses sympathy for other movements dedicated to
defending ostensibly “ancestral” identities — namely, the
Corsican, Basque, and Breton separatist movements — against what he
calls the “grinder” (171) of French republicanism. “I understand why the
Corsicans and the Bretons revolt against the steamroller of French national
identity that does nothing but reject the past of everyone else,” he
says (173). Ousman,
incidentally, also sees parallels between his “struggle” and
that of the Corsican and Basque nationalists. They too, he says, like the
Islamists, are “outside the system” and thus treated as
“criminal associations” (129).
Such remarks, coming from Islamist militants
themselves, are especially significant. In the aftermath of the March 11 attacks in Madrid, the
possibility of collaboration between Islamic terror groups and the Basque
nationalist terror organization, eta, was rejected out of hand by the Spanish Socialists and by
a large part of the media, both in Spain and abroad. Testifying before the
Spanish parliament’s m–11 Commission in July 2004, investigative judge Baltazar Garzón went so far as
to claim that such collaboration was “metaphysically
impossible.” The evidence of the Khosrokhavar interviews suggests, on
the contrary, that precisely on a “metaphysical” level the two
sorts of movements have much in common. Just as important, if not more so,
they apparently also share much on the level of the individual psychology
of their adherents; thus the clear identification of the Islamists with
their Basque or Corsican “brothers” in the struggle against the
French enemy.13
The opposition the inmates draw between
“imitation Frenchness” and the authentic Muslim
“self” — as well, indeed, as their agenda of recovering
the latter in violent struggle against French/Western society — bears
a striking resemblance to the signature theses of Frantz Fanon, the
French-Caribbean champion of anticolonial “national liberation”
movements whose writings are regarded as classics of “Third
Worldist” literature. It was Fanon’s own experience as a black
intellectual from France’s overseas territories that provided the
point of departure for the often rambling psychological reflections on race
and racism of his earliest volume, Black Skin,
White Masks. But it is interesting to note that
he gathered the clinical observations that form the basis for his political
testament, The Wretched of the Earth, while working as a psychiatrist in a French hospital in
Algeria during the first years of the Algerian War of Independence. By
early 1957, he had
resigned his medical post and joined the principal Algerian independence
movement directing the war against the French, the National Liberation
Front (fln). Many
of his later essays were published in the fln journal El Moudjahid. His death in 1961 would prevent Fanon from obtaining as an adoptive
Algerian the independence from France that his native Martinique has never
sought.
Fanon’s emphasis on the specifically national framework of
“struggle” both dates his theories and distinguishes them from
contemporary Islamist ideology, with its emphasis on the all-embracing umma, or community of believers.
Nonetheless, the echoes of Fanon in the testimonials of the inmates are so
persistent that one wonders whether he does not represent a kind of
“missing link” in the evolution of the Islamist movement. As in
Fanon’s writings — which make ample use of a quasi-Marxist
terminology that transcends the context of decolonization — so, too,
in the often morbid reflections of the inmates the fundamentally
psychological thematic of repressed “authenticity” is oddly
grafted together with a rhetoric of political
“anti-imperialism.” Again, as with Fanon — who recruited
Sartre to write the preface to The Wretched of
the Earth — this
“anti-imperialist” rhetoric is a clear indication that the
Islamists remain far more Western than they would care to admit. Thus, for
instance, Ousman, as he abruptly shifts into a more dogmatic register:
“Before, I bore within me the despising gaze of the French and the
Westerners and I despised myself despite myself. I admired the French and
Westerners for their technical knowledge [savoir-faire] and their power. Now, Islam has given me self-respect, and
I know that it is the West that incarnates vice and adultery, moral
depravation and imperialism” (141). “What was broken in me has been healed,”
Ousman concludes, “but all my rage is turned toward the West with its
viciousness and lies.”
The transference of hate
In a long scholarly essay appended to the interviews, Khosrokhavar
also identifies the primordial importance of their grievances and/or
complexes vis-à-vis France in the biographical itineraries that have
led the inmates to radical Islam and its “anti-Western” jihad.
He notes in this connection what he calls a process of
“generalization” of their hatred of France to “the
West” as such. The morose broodings of an Ousman provide just one
illustration. But the interviews bear witness not only to such a process of
generalization of the inmates’ hate, but also — and, from the
point of view of the real conduct of jihad, more crucially — to a
process of transference of their hate from, so to say, its “lived” object,
namely, France and French society, to an “imagined” object or,
more precisely, two imagined objects that in the perspective of the inmates
are fused into one, namely, Israel and the U.S. “The West,”
after all, is an abstraction. Inasmuch as it is a question of taking action — i.e.,
violent action in the framework of jihad — the designated target that
stands in for the West in general and is substituted for France in
particular is invariably the imagined Israelo-American monolith. The tight
association of Israel and the U.S. in the discourse of the Islamists
interviewed by Khosrokhavar is not, for the most part, given an openly
anti-Jewish inflection. One highly revealing exception, however, is the
“native French” convert. America, he says, “is hand in
glove with the Jews” (248), and he denounces the “domination” of Muslims
by “the yhudis [Jews] and American Zionists” (253).
One of the most fascinating and significant features
of the Khosrokhavar interviews is that the mechanism of this transference
of hate is clearly observable. Time and again, an inmate, having provided
an inventory of the sources of his frustration in
France, suddenly announces his intention to
purge the full charge of his hatred in fighting against Israel and the
United States. In virtually every instance, the switch that permits this
transference to take place is explicitly designated. It is neither the
preaching of radical Imams nor the indoctrination of Islamic organizations.
Indeed, in a sense, it is not an ideological instrument at all, since the certainty with which it
invests the inmates’ convictions about American and Israeli infamy
— a quasi-certainty tantamount to what they know from their own
experience — is created through non-verbal means.
Consider, for instance, the diatribe of
“Moussa,” an Algerian-born Islamist who has lived for roughly a
decade in France and is suspected of having ties with both the gia and al Qaeda. “Islam
is what saves us from the West,” he says (52),
from America, from all those who commit injustices
against Muslims and oppress them: like Israel oppresses the Palestinian
people. One sees on the television how the
Israeli Army, with the help of America, mistreats the youth of the
Intifada. When I see that, I want to go
fight against them, against the Americans, against all those who repress
Islam [emphasis added].
“Karim,” a French national and another al
Qaeda suspect, says that “France is pushing people toward extremism.
. . . If you suspect the worst of us, we’ll end up doing what we are
accused of.” Where exactly does such extremism lead? Karim explains
further (92):
You see: in prison the Jihadists are very respected by
the other Muslim inmates. The others think that the Jihadists have dared to
do what they, the other inmates, think is right but have not had the
courage to do. They have taken action and given a good lesson to the
Americans who are repressing our brothers in Palestine or in Afghanistan. Just watch the TV and the humiliation to which the Israeli
army subjects the Palestinian chebab [youth]
[emphasis added].
When asked “Who are the enemies of Islam?”
“Jacques,” the Parisian-born fellow traveler, responds (220):
You don’t see? There are the Jews who are trying
to push the Palestinians into the sea. . . . There is America, which is the
closest ally of Israel. It’s as if Israel were the 53rd state! They’re hand in
glove. When one sees on the TV how the Israeli
tanks fire on youths armed with slingshots or Molotov cocktails and no one moves a finger. One asks oneself whether
there is any justice in the world [emphasis added]?
The implication of Jacques’ remarks is clear:
something should be done. And pressed by Khosrokhavar on the matter, he
explains: “There are days when I am ready to enlist in the struggle
against the Americans and the Israelis” — before adding:
“and then I calm down and I think of my life and my future” (224).
The source of the inmates’ convictions about the
injustices of which they accuse France is experience. What, then, is the
source of their convictions about the injustice they believe Palestinian
Arabs suffer at the hands of Israel and its presumptive American
accomplice? “The TV.”
It is important to recall in this connection that the
first language of most of the inmates interviewed is French. Some, like
Jacques, do not speak Arabic or have at most only a very limited knowledge
of it. “The tv” to which they allude for the most part is undoubtedly French television. In France,
where the cable and satellite television markets remain relatively limited
(and were even more so when the interviews were conducted) and where just
two channels split the bulk of the network television audience for news
programming, “the tv,” generically designated in this way, typically means
either tf1 (the
only privately owned network to offer substantial news programming) or the
leading public broadcaster, France 2.
It is, in effect, by way of the false immediacy of
images of the Middle East conflict on the nightly news that the hatred the
Islamists feel for France gets transferred to Israel. In the images of the
Palestinian chebab
doing battle with their homespun weaponry against the massively superior
force of the Israeli Army, the French candidates for jihad see their own
sense of victimhood reflected back to them in heroic guise. The Palestinian
gunmen with their less wholesome Kalashnikovs and m16s remain outside the frame. So too,
needless to say — since, in any case, it is not accessible in images
— does all the background and context that could render Israeli
military actions in the West Bank or Gaza comprehensible and/or dissipate
the aura of absolute victimhood in which Palestinian Arabs are almost
invariably bathed in the French media.
In order to appreciate just how deceptive the sense of
immediacy relayed by these images can be, one need only consider the role
played by France 2
in the creation of what has become the iconic representation of Palestinian victimhood: the image
of 12-year-old
Mohammad Al-Dura pinned against a wall and cowering behind his
father’s body while allegedly caught in fire from an Israeli army
post at Netzarim Junction in the Gaza strip. On September 30, 2000, at the very outset of
the Second Intifada, France 2 broadcast footage of the seeming ordeal of Mohammad and his
father, ending, after a mysterious cut, with the boy apparently lying dead
on the ground. It was France 2 correspondent Charles Enderlin who identified the
supposedly fatal fire as coming from the Israeli Army post. Indeed,
Enderlin described the boy and his father as the “targets” of
Israeli fire, thus seeming to imply that the killing of the boy was
intentional. He would later explain the mysterious cut in the footage by
claiming that the scene of the boy’s death throes was too
heartrending to broadcast.
From the start, simple considerations of geometry
contradicted France 2’s attribution of the gunfire to the Israeli Army.
Some investigators went so far as to suggest that the entire episode had
been staged. More recently, new evidence has come to light that clearly
supports such allegations. Following years of stonewalling, in October 2004 France 2 agreed to allow three well-known
French journalists — Luc Rosenzweig, Denis Jeambar, and Daniel
Leconte — to view the unedited rushes filmed by the France 2 cameraman at Netzarim
Junction. All three concur that the 27-minute reel consists almost entirely of obvious
“play-acting” [mise-en-scene]. Jeambar and Leconte have politely allowed that the
roughly three minutes depicting the Al-Dura episode “might,”
nonetheless, be authentic. All three journalists likewise concur that,
contrary to the claims of Charles Enderlin, the rushes contain no footage
of Mohammad Al-Dura’s death throes. Confronted by the revelations of
his colleagues, Enderlin has averred that even if his original report
should turn out to have been false, “for me, the image corresponded
to the reality of the situation not only in Gaza but also in the West
Bank.”14
The effects of such would-be representative and
symbolically charged images of the Middle East conflict upon French and,
more generally, European public opinion are well enough known. But the
Khosrokhavar interviews clearly reveal the incitement they represent
— incitement, namely, to jihad — for those in Europe or, for
that matter, around the world who are psychologically predisposed to
identify most intimately with Palestinian grievances. “When I see
that,” Moussa says, “I want to fight against them.” In
this connection too, Ousman’s testimonial is perhaps the most
revealing, for by comparison to the other inmates Ousman appears to be
well-informed about Israel and the history of the Middle East conflict. It
is worth underscoring — as his above-cited allusion to the German ss and the Jews makes clear
— that he acknowledges the persecution to which European Jews were
subjected under the Third Reich. Perhaps on account of this recognition, or
perhaps by virtue of simple political realism, Ousman — in what
amounts to a stunning admission for a self-professed Islamist — is
prepared to accept the existence of Israel. Nonetheless, he says his
rational assessment of the need to accept Israel is sometimes submerged in
an irrational urge to see it “destroyed” (142):
I know that Israel is there and is there to stay. . .
. Some days, I say to myself: that is just the way it is and there is no
use banging one’s head against the wall. But other days, when I hear
the news about the death of young Palestinians killed by Israeli bombs or
missiles, when I see the Israeli tanks on the tv that fire on youngsters who do not have one-one
hundredth of their weaponry, then I say that it’s a calamity for
Muslims and that it [Israel] has to be destroyed.
“I watch the tv every day,” he notes, “and it hurts me a lot. .
. . One watches it all on the tv when they mistreat the young Palestinians and no one does
anything” (150–51).
In response to the very next question — about 9/11 — Ousman warns that
one has to treat “with caution” the information provided in the
media. But this warning evidently does not apply to French coverage of the
Middle East conflict. The images of supposed Israeli mistreatment of
Palestinians are taken by Ousman and his fellow inmates as bearing a
constant meaning that is fully independent of the specific context of the
events being depicted. Revealingly, Ousman associates these images with, as
he puts it, “all injustice”: “the sexual exploitation of
children, the Americans who exploit Asia with their dollars, a girl who is
prevented from wearing the veil” (151). “All of that,” he concludes, “drives me
wild with rage” (152). Palestinian suffering is thus elevated to a sort of summum of all unjust
suffering, by which it follows that to redeem Palestinian suffering would
be to redeem the injustice of the world. The religious structure of such
thinking is obvious. The images are indeed “iconic” in more
than just a metaphorical sense. But it is equally obvious that there is
nothing specifically Islamic about such religious thinking and that it is
also in evidence in the apotheosis of the Palestinian cause by a large part
of the European and global left.
Fighting the malevolent force
Whereas such images in the media clearly provide the vehicle for the French
Islamists’ transference of their hate, they do not in themselves
explain how America
comes to be associated in their worldview with the “evil” or
injustice that the images represent. Needless to say, this association is
likewise taken for granted by the virtual entirety of the European left and
is largely assumed in European public discourse more generally. In light of
actual American support for Israel — support that has been set in
relief over the past several years by the positioning of the eu as the principal
external sponsor of the Palestinian Authority and diplomatic champion of
Palestinian interests — this association might appear to be rational;
and for those inclined to make it, undoubtedly it does.
If one considers the inmates’ testimonials in
their entirety, however, it is clear that the sources of the association
are anything but rational. For in the discourse of the Islamist inmates
— just as in the ambient discourse of contemporary European
anti-Americanism — the U.S. is quite simply held to be responsible
for every possible evil, real or imagined. Or, more precisely, in the
discourse of the French Islamists, the U.S. is held to be responsible for
every possible “evil” of which they do not themselves have
direct personal experience. As we have seen, it is rather France that they hold
accountable for perceived injustices that they have lived. With respect to matters,
however, of which they have no experience and limited knowledge, the
ambient anti-Americanism rushes to fill the void. Several of the inmates
who do not share Mohammad’s experience in the Bosnian war even manage
somehow to blame America for the persecution of Bosnian Muslims!
It is indeed remarkable how little of a concrete
character the Islamist inmates can cite to explain their hostility to the
United States. Ousman’s bizarre remark about “the Americans who
exploit Asia with their dollars” is symptomatic in this regard.
Significantly, virtually the only somewhat more concrete charge against the
U.S. that the French Islamists can muster concerns the effects on
Iraq’s civilian population of the Iraqi trade embargo voted by the un Security Council in 1990. The subject was a pet
theme of French diplomacy during the 1990s, and the establishment of the now infamous un “Oil for Food”
program in 1996 —
ostensibly designed to ease the effects of the embargo — was largely
the product of French lobbying efforts.
The French Islamists’ conception of the U.S. as
a kind of omnipresent and malevolent force, obscurely but all the more
certainly implicated in the most various “evils” of a
fundamentally unjust world, is clearly theological in nature. Testifying in
his own defense in April and quickly finding himself at a loss to provide
examples of the alleged American wrongdoing that he had come to the U.S. to
combat, Zacarias Moussaoui managed to reduce this theology to its purest
essence. “[I]t is a bit like explaining one plus one equal
[sic] two,” he said during questioning by one of his
court-appointed attorneys. “It is so simple. Every child in Palestine
is being killed because of you. What happened in Bosnia is because of you.
You run the show.”15 But it is equally clear that this anti-American theology is
not particular to the Islamist movement and has nothing whatsoever to do
with traditional Islam — in whose sacred texts, needless to say,
neither good nor evil Americans figure prominently. It is the same theology
that accounts for much of the fervor of the so-called anti-globalization
movement, as well as for that of the radical “Europeist”
currents militating for an eu that will serve as a “counterforce” to constrain
— or, in the openly messianic variant, even subdue — American
power. Whether the counterforce is supposed to be Islam or socialism or
Europe does not alter the basically Manichean structure of such thinking,
nor the role assigned in it to America as the malevolent force in the
world.
The French Islamist inmates are evidently well aware
that their ideas about the malevolence of American power, like their ideas
about the exemplarity of Israeli “oppression,” place them well
within the French intellectual mainstream.16 Thus “Karim,” for example, in admitting to
having given lodging to Jihadists, remarks nonchalantly: “If they
engaged in jihad, they had their reasons. When they revolted against the
Americans, they weren’t the only ones. A large part of the French are
also against American policy with respect to the Palestinians and
others” (93).
This recognition on their part suggests, finally, an intriguing question
about the psychological dynamics propelling French Muslims into jihad.
Prima facie, entry into jihad would seem to represent their ultimate
rupture with French society. But as we have seen, despite the bluster with
which the Islamists and fellow travelers interviewed by Khosrokhavar claim
to reject “being French,” their discourse in fact exhibits
significant traces of ambivalence toward France. Khosrokhavar goes so far
as to suggest that for some France remains an unobtainable “object of
desire” (357).
Could not, then, the entry of French Islamists into jihad — not
against France, but against precisely America — be rather a last desperate attempt to prove
their worthiness of the affections and respect of French society: to prove,
in effect, that they, the Islamists, are the better Frenchmen?
In any case, the “Islamism” of the
inmates, like that of their comrade-in-arms Zacarias Moussaoui, is clearly
a product not of the “Muslim world” alone, but rather of
a certain encounter between Islamic traditions and modern European culture
and society. When one considers that many of the leading intellectual
figures in the history of the Islamist movement lived for extensive periods
in Europe and did advanced studies in European universities, there is
reason to believe that this mixed heritage is also characteristic of
Islamist ideology more generally. The Iranian Ali Shariati, for instance,
studied in Paris; the Sudanese Hassan Al-Turabi holds degrees from both the
University of London and the Sorbonne; the Egyptian Said Ramadan —
father of Tariq and son-in-law of Hassan Al-Banna, the founder of the
Muslim Brotherhood — wrote a thesis on Islamic Law at the University
of Cologne before settling in Geneva. Of course, the better-known European cursus of Mohammad Atta, Ramzi
Binalshibh, and the other members of the “Hamburg Cell” who
planned the 9/11
attacks shows that some of the key operatives of Islamic terror have
followed a similar itinerary.17
As the testimonials collected in the Khosrokhavar
volume make clear, the encounter with Europe has often been a traumatic
experience for Arabs and Muslims more generally. In a sense, the United
States has not had much to do with the episodes that have made it such:
neither with the history of European colonialism in northern Africa and the
Middle East nor with the tensions and discontents that have accompanied
Muslim immigration to Europe in the aftermath of decolonization. Indeed, in
some contexts — for instance, the Suez Canal crisis — America
even served as a brake upon the neocolonial ambitions that certain European
powers continued to nourish vis-à-vis Arab countries in the
aftermath of World War ii.
But it is perhaps precisely America’s
exteriority to the relationship of Europe and the “Muslim
world” that accounts for the ease with which a metaphysical
anti-Americanism of distinctly European provenance could be grafted onto
the discourse of contemporary Islamism. If, as Zacarias Moussaoui puts it,
America “runs the show,” then everything of which one
disapproves in the “show” is, in the final analysis,
America’s fault. This simple postulate converts the United States
into the universal scapegoat. The Khosrokhavar interviews amply illustrate
how the specter of U.S. power permits resentments that have their sources
in France and French policy to be “safely” channeled toward an
external “enemy.” Another example of the capacity of the
anti-American postulate to dissipate — or indeed, in this case, fully
to volatilize — the sources of tension in Europe’s relationship
both to traditionally Muslim countries and to its own Muslim population
comes from none other than Osama Bin Laden. Thus, in his “Letter to
America,” Bin Laden, in a remarkable feat of legerdemain, accuses the
United States — not France — of being responsible for the 1992 Algerian coup and the
repression that followed:
When the Islamic party in Algeria wanted to practice
democracy and they won the election, you unleashed your agents in the
Algerian army onto them, and to attack them with tanks and guns, to
imprison them and torture them — a new lesson from the
“American book of democracy!!!”18
The contrast with the testimonials of Bin
Laden’s own Algerian followers, as recorded by Khosrokhavar, is
striking.
The integration of a metaphysical anti-Americanism
with the rigorist canon of the Islamists represents a particular danger
because it creates the prospect of a sort of “reconciliation”
of Europe and Islamic extremism: in shared hostility to America. Such a
prospect may be only an illusion. Nonetheless, the eagerness of some
political currents in Europe to seek “dialogue” with precisely
the world’s most reactionary Islamic forces — from Hamas to
Hezbollah to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad — bears unmistakable witness to
the power of attraction it exerts. This being the case, it is clear that
the solution to America’s much-trumpeted “image problem in the
Muslim world” is not be found in the “Muslim world”
alone.
1 Farhad
Khosrokhavar, Quand Al-Qäida parle:
Témoignages derrière les barreaux (Grasset, 2006), 136–137. All translations
from the French are the author’s.
2 Trial
Transcript, United States of America v.
Zacarias Moussaoui (February 14, 2006).
3 Trial
Transcript, United States of America v.
Zacarias Moussaoui (April 13, 2006).
4 Khosrokhavar
presents the four supplementary interviews under the heading “French
Islamists.” This heading is, however, doubly misleading. On the one
hand, although they all express approval for jihad, the relationship to
Islam of three of the four inmates in question is more or less casual or
even superficial. Only the convert practices a rigorist form of Islam, and
only he clearly merits the designation “Islamist.” On the other
hand, and more important for our purposes, several of the other ten
“al Qaeda” interviewees also have French citizenship, and some appear to have been
born in France. They too, then, are French
Islamists. Moreover, for the reasons just
outlined in the main text, even if they have not acquired citizenship,
still other of the suspected al Qaeda could also be reasonably described as
such.
5 Thus Qaradawi:
“Allah willing, Islam will return to Europe and the Europeans will
convert to Islam. They will then be in a position to propagate Islam
throughout the world, in a better position than us, the old Muslims.”
Al Jazeera (November 30, 2000). Cited from Paul Landau, Le Sabre et
le Coran: Tariq Ramadan et les Frères musulmans à la
conquête de l’Europe
(Éditions du Rocher, 2005), 205. For other citations from Qaradawi and Ramadan in the same vein,
see chapter 12 of
Landau’s study.
6 See, for
instance, “Les djihadistes de banlieues s’apprêtaient
à partir en Irak,” Le Figaro (September 20, 2005), and “L’isolement de Peter Cherif,” Le Monde (February 14, 2006).
7 Much of the
established media, following the lead of Moussaoui’s court-appointed
attorneys — and in perfect harmony with Osama Bin Laden — has
attempted to minimize Moussaoui’s role in the 9/11 plot. It has been suggested, in
particular, that Moussaoui lied when he claimed under oath that he had been
assigned to fly a plane into the White House on 9/11: a lie that is supposed to have
been an expression of his desire to die a martyr’s death in the
electric chair. But during his testimony, Moussaoui made clear that he
considered himself to be testifying under an Islamic oath and that while it would be permissible to lie in order
to further the cause of jihad — i.e., to gain a tactical advantage
— it would not be permissible to lie under such circumstances merely
for vanity’s sake. See Trial Transcript, United
States of America v. Zacarias Moussaoui (April 13, 2006). Furthermore, from the
beginning of court proceedings in 2002, Moussaoui left no doubt that he considered that he can
still be of use to the jihad by staying alive and that he was committed, in
his own words, to “saving his life.”
8 Hearing
Transcript, United States of America v.
Zacarias Moussaoui (April 22, 2002).
9 Abd Samad
Moussaoui and Florence Bouquillat, Zacarias
Moussaoui, mon frère (Éditions
Denoël, 2002), 76,
94.
10 In a
helpful glossary of Arabic terms that is appended to his volume,
Khosrokhavar explains that this term is often applied to Shiites.
11
Khosrokhavar’s own commentary on his interview with Ahsen suggests
much the same conclusion. Thus, he notes that in Islamic tradition
“each believer did not consider himself to be the direct interpreter
of the Quranic text,” and he warns against “the dangers of
radicalization tied to a literal interpretation of the text that is not
placed within a corpus where the common sense or wisdom of generations
would have provided moderating influences” (82).
12 Hearing
Transcript, United States of America v.
Zacarias Moussaoui (April 22, 2002).
.
13 The
irrational, ideologically driven character of such identification is
especially obvious with respect to the Corsican nationalists. Official
statistics show incidents of anti-Arab racism to be far more widespread in
Corsica than anywhere else in France. Corsican nationalist groups
frequently claim responsibility for the incidents, including physical
attacks against both persons and property.
14 Le Figaro (January 27, 2005). I have made available
a dossier of materials on the Al-Dura/France 2 affair, including extensive translations from the relevant
French sources, on the Transatlantic Intelligencer website at http:
//www.trans-int.com/news/categories/15-Al-DuraFrance2-Affair. See also, Richard Landes’s “The Second
Draft” website (http://www.seconddraft.org/), which is largely
dedicated to the affair and makes available a large selection of raw
footage shot by other film crews at Netzarim Junction on September 30, 2000.
15 Trial
Transcript, United States of America v.
Zacarias Moussaoui (April 13, 2006).
.
16 For a
detailed discussion of cognate anti-American phantasms in the French press
just before and in the aftermath of 9/11, see my “The Myth of ‘Squandered
Sympathy’,” Opinion Journal (October 14, 2004).
17 It should be
kept in mind in this connection, however, that among the European nations
the role played by Germany in the development of Islamic radicalism
represents a special case. This is notably so in light of the direct
support that Nazi Germany provided to the Muslim Brotherhood and other
Islamist movements in the 1930s and 1940s. See, for instance, Matthias Küntzel, “National
Socialism and Anti-Semitism in the Arab World,” Jewish Political Studies Review17:
1–2 (Spring 2005).
18 Bin
Laden’s “Letter to America,” Observer (November 24, 2002).
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