Radicalism Unveiled

Farhaan Wali

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9781138249578
• eBook ISBN: 9781317071761
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Politics

Radicalism Unveiled is an essential and unique contribution to our knowledge concerning the rise of Islamic radicalism in Britain. Through the study of Hizb ut-Tahrir (The Liberation Party), the spectre of radicalisation looms large and Muslim youth in Britain are increasingly linked to this group, making a critical examination of this complex phenomenon far overdue. Troubled by the great volume of disjointed theories put forward to provide an explanation for radicalisation, the author moves away from the preoccupation with working-class Muslims and considers the socio-political realities of this middle-class movement. An expanding movement inspiring Muslims in Britain to turn away from the bedrock principles of this country and infusing them with religious fanaticism. By penetrating the clandestine veil of Islamic radicalism, the book is able to interpret and analyse the closed social world of radical activism. Relatively unchallenged within British society, Radicalism Unveiled has one key purpose: to determine and explain why some young Muslims join Hizb ut-Tahrir.

Chapter 1Penetrating the Clandestine Veil

DOI: 10.4324/9781315603520-1

Hizb ut-Tahrir¹ (henceforth, HT), a radical fringe group, has managed to inspire countless young people in Britain to turn away from the bedrock principles of this country, infusing them with religious fanaticism. For over three decades HT has operated relatively unchallenged within British society, yet relatively little has been published about how this movement evolved and why its appeal among some young Muslims continues to grow. The rise of global terrorism, particularly in the wake of 9/11, promoted fierce scrutiny of the Muslim community here in the UK. However, heightened security measures and stricter legislation did not prevent four home-grown terrorists from killing and injuring hundreds in Britain's largest terror attack. Unsurprisingly, radicalisation has taken centre stage. Tony Blair, in the aftermath of the 7/7 bombings, identified young British Muslims as being particularly at risk from radicalisation, a sentiment echoed across media and academic channels alike (The Guardian, 10 November 2005). Young British Muslims have been singled out as a problem group, because extremist elements are increasingly gaining a foothold among their disgruntled ranks, making it even more important to understand their needs. Despite the fact that a better understanding of radicalisation has been achieved, there is a great deal missing in our knowledge about the emergence of HT in Britain, making it vital to discover why some young people are attracted to the organisation.

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¹ According to Hizb ut-Tahrir's official manifesto, the group is defined as an ‘Islamic party that was formed in 1953 [by Taqiuddin al-Nabhani in the West Bank] with the objective of working to re-establish the Islamic way of life and to carry Islam to mankind (Anon. 2000, p. 76).

Encountering HT

On 13 August 1995, at the age of 16, I attended a rally in Trafalgar Square. I did not know at the time of the storm that such an event would trigger, nor could I have predicted the social upheaval that would result from it. The ‘Rally for Islam’, as it was entitled by the organisers, was a pioneering event.² Surprisingly I witnessed the existence of different, and to some extent conflicting, identities of young Muslims. In particular, these were well educated British-born Muslims, from similar ethnic and socio-religious backgrounds. Yet they consciously appeared to reject all aspects of Western civilisation as morally corrupt and inherently wrong. What stood out with significant clarity was the apparent re-structuring of identities into a single religious perspective, which appeared to be inspired by a collective group identity. This perceived homogeneous identity appeared to melt the individual identities into a collective one, embracing the different types of identity among the spectators. I was shocked by the great devotion shown by these young Muslims to religion, especially as I was raised in a secular household, making this difficult to understand. In encounters with other young Muslims, I perceived them to be thoroughly integrated into British society. It was this contrast that provoked in me a great deal of interest in understanding the processes involved in the making of a radical identity.

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² The ‘Rally for Islam’ was organised by Hizb ut-Tahrir (HT).

My Journey In and Out of HT

When I began to look at HT, it became apparent that I was setting out to generate knowledge and insight of a social reality that I had already experienced in my youth. For this reason, I had a set of subjective assumptions about the radicalisation process, as I had already experienced HT radicalisation. Thus, in essence my investigation of HT was not starting from scratch, but rather from preexisting knowledge. It became clear that I could not avoid using my own personal experiences of HT, and thus I needed to identify a way of utilising this experience rather than pretending it did not happen. So, I needed to find a way to compare my raw data with my own experience as a member of HT and share it with the respondents. In particular, ‘conscious partiality’, as articulated by Mies (1983), stood out as a key way to maintain a real and flexible counterbalance between object and subject, which I did not want to separate in an artificial manner. In other words, as someone who has experienced HT radicalisation, I am also my own source of knowledge. As du Bois (1983, p. 111) explained, the centrality of experience means the knower is part of the matrix of what is known. The process of ‘partial identification’ with HT activists made it necessary to move away from ‘value-free objectivity’ as a methodological starting point (Mies, 1983, p. 123). This is because I cannot simply assume ignorance of those being studied, and regard them simply as objects, especially since this would deny my own experiences of HT membership.

Before delving into my observations, I want to contextualise my motivation for writing this book by drawing upon some of my own experiences as a former member of HT. My early youth was greatly shaped by my feelings of social dislocation. In particular, I struggled to construct a coherent identity during my adolescence. I tried to develop a position that would relate my teenage life to what I had experienced before, in an effort to gain meaning. I was raised in a very secular household, in fact, religiosity was not emphasised in any way. As I matured, I could not develop a unified understanding about all the diverse aspects of my life. Religion and ethnicity were disconnected from my social identity, preventing me from establishing a unified identity. Also, I found it difficult to make sense of my ethnicity, especially since I lived in a predominantly white area. Despite rejecting my ethnicity, I still felt socially dislocated from the white working class friends I had made at secondary school. There were two reasons for this sense of exclusion. Firstly, I was raised in a middle class household, which brought me into conflict with my white working class counterparts, especially as I struggled to relate to their social world. Secondly, despite gaining some degree of acceptance amongst my white friends, I could not fully overcome their negative perception of belonging to a different ethnic group. This consequently reinforced within me the sense that my identity was artificial.

At college I was confronted, for the first time, with a multicultural environment, which to some degree forced me to re-evaluate my negative stereotypes about race and ethnicity. This new social situation allowed me to re-invent myself; however, it was extremely intimidating and overwhelming. I felt isolated and slightly insecure, so I went in search of the ‘familiar’. Thus, I came into contact with HT recruiters when I started to attend Friday Prayers, and they introduced me to HT radicalism. I had never considered myself connected to a global community and thus I was never emotionally moved by the plight of Muslims. However, this changed when I was exposed to the rhetoric of HT. I slowly began to think in terms of ‘us and them’. At this point my identity was struggling to adjust, because the new ideas being offered to me were impossible to work into a smooth and consistent whole. HT rhetoric projected a homogenous identity – one is Muslim and not British or Pakistani. However, I considered my identity evenly distributed, even when I became a member, it was a mix of positions.

After several years of wrestling with my own contradictions, I decided to join the group. This was not a free choice; significant coercion was used in order to manipulate me into joining the organisation. Although, there was no physical pressure, the coercion was clear if you did not join HT then you were ‘sinful and God would condemn you to the pits of hell for an eternity’ (Faheem, Member). By virtue of ignorance, I was placed in a state of guilt for not working for the party aim, and thus I felt compelled to join. After a lengthy delay, I was placed into a Halaqah (private study circle) with six other individuals and a Mushrif (Teacher) was appointed to indoctrinate us into HT culture. This is considered a key stage and an instrumental part of group radicalisation. During this period, intellectual pressure is applied, forcing the novice to bend towards group expectation. In particular, the Mushrif was very keen to establish a joint construction of reality, amongst us, in order to create a new cognitive perspective. The Halaqah provided a conceptual framework, with which connections had to be made to our own social realities. To remove extreme individual differences and independent thought the Mushrif forces novices to agree with and carry the ideas presented in Halaqah. The novice is seen as intellectually inferior, especially if he or she displays independent thinking. In my Halaqah, I remember that most of the novices conformed to the Mushrif's judgements in order not to appear different. Although, this alignment of ideas is consciously arrived at, it does denote the acceptance of influence.

On the surface, a recurring feature of HT rhetoric is Mabda (ideology), which is the basis of organising and mobilising the fraternity. In reality, this is not true, as I experienced. HT enforced ideology onto its members, demanding they obey the commands of the party hierarchy. When I became a member, I wrote a letter to the then Amir (leader), Abdul-Qadeem Zullum, asking him about the limits of the party's authority. According to Zullum, ‘it is wajib [obligatory] on the member to obey his Masool in all circumstances except if the Masool requests a haram [forbidden] action is clear that it is haram e.g. leaving a Fard or doing a haram such as Zina [adultery], drinking alcohol etc.’ (Answer and Question, 2002). This clearly indicates HT authority has wide reaching influence and control, which is applied at the discretion of the hierarchy. Furthermore, Istinkar (rejection) of HT is haram, because ‘the aim of Hizb ut-Tahrir is to carry the Islamic dawah [mission] and resume the Islamic way of life, its work is … to change dar al-Kufr [land of non-Islam] to dar al-Islam [land of Islam] … to reject this work or free oneself of the responsibility of this work by rejecting the Hizb is prohibited by Sharia [Islamic Law]’ (Admin File, p. 130).

When the novice begins to convey the thoughts of HT effectively, as if they were his own, then he is considered for membership. However, the novice must show desire for membership by imposing himself on the organisation, which serves as the first indicator for their readiness. During this period, I remember that novices competed with each other to gain the recognition of members. At the time, this staged rivalry provoked some controversy among the novices, as they questioned the morality of such a policy. Senior members felt it was totally acceptable for novices ‘to compete in this fashion for good deeds’ (Faheem, Member). However, the atmosphere became rather polluted by individuals trying to outdo others, but for the hierarchy it showed psychological dependency for HT and a desire for membership.

I recall being summoned, without any explanation, on an early Sunday morning by a senior member. I arrived at the location to find several members already present, among them was the Naqib (area leader) and Masool (local leader). To my surprise, they offered me membership into HT, which I reluctantly accepted. Jalauddin Patel, who was the Naqib of West London at the time, explained that in order to become a member, I must take al-Qasm (the Oath).³ In fact, the swearing of the oath is a requirement for all prospective members, as to be assured of his sincerity and loyalty. After a few weeks, I soon realised the full ramifications of the oath, which in reality meant I belonged to HT. However, I do not believe my personal identity gave way completely to the group identity. When I was exposed to group pressure, for example, I realised that in public situations I conformed to HT. However, privately I disagreed with the group. As a member, I found it impossible to operate without independent thought and free will. As I became submerged in party activism, my concerns heightened. Consequently, I broke HT protocol and started to voice my concerns openly. Initially, I tried to create a conflict among the majority by challenging their norms, but I found it difficult to provide an alternative norm for them to consider because they only referred to HT ideology.

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³ The Oath (al-Qasm): Everyone who joins HT has to be (1) ‘a faithful guardian of Islam; (2) adopt the opinions of this Hizb ut-Tahrir, its thoughts and its constitution by word and deed; (3) trust its leadership; (4) execute its resolutions even if they differed with my opinion; and (5) to exhaust all my efforts to achieve its objective as long as I am a member in it’ (Al-Qasm, Hizb ut-Tahrir, 20 August 1998)

I started to question the coercive nature of HT, as Masools seemed to operate with impunity. Moreover, because I challenged the party leadership concerning its practices, I was subjected to an investigation. The findings of the investigation found that I had not been acting in compliance with the directives of the UK leadership, and thus I was subject to reprimand in accordance with the party code of conduct. In order to assess my loyalty, the leadership informed me ‘the Masool has the power to prevent any member from contacting his friends if the Masool thinks this will cause harm to the party’. This allowed HT to control my interactions, especially with other members and it prevented me from contacting other Islamic scholars. The leadership issued a final warning:

… he must completely abstain from any violations or anything that affects the party or its thoughts and that he must adhere completely to the party, its thoughts and have complete trust in the party, its thoughts and its Masools. And if he does not adhere to all of this then he should be informed of his ‘ihmaal taam’ [complete removal] (Letter from Central Leadership, 2002).

I refused to comply with this request and subsequently was dismissed from HT. Although, this is a short glimpse into my narrative with HT, it does show that I experienced huge social change. In particular, I struggled to blend and mix different identity-types together into a complete whole, which initially pulled me towards HT radicalism. Within HT my identity was totally refashioned. Even though, the sense of belonging I attained in HT overshadowed other social attachments, it was not anchored by ideology. In fact, I had little connection to HT ideology; instead I was attracted by the homogenous nature of the organisations fraternity. The members emerged from social realities and backgrounds that were very similar to mine, but after I left HT, I wanted to know whether these young people were drawn to the group by similar motivations. On the surface, HT activists appear driven by one single overriding variable, namely ideology, but I wanted to go much deeper. Therefore, I sought to contextualise HT membership. This meant giving voice to HT narratives in a way that would allow me to understand the changing experiences and worldviews of HT activists, what they saw as important, and how they dissected their past and present experiences.

Ethnographic Approach: Penetrating the Veil

The topic of radicalisation is highly contested amongst social theorists, who continue to strive for answers to such questions as, who are radicals? Are there common characteristics associated with radicals? Do radicals vary among themselves; and if so, how do they differ? A cursory survey of the literature has indicated that no single variable, or theory, exclusively explains why radicalisation occurs. Therefore, understanding the impact radicalisation has had on some young Muslims required investigating a specific radical Islamic movement, namely HT. In my early encounters with members of HT, I noticed, on the surface, they appeared thoroughly ‘westernised’ in relation to dress, language and leisure activities. However, these young men had become radicalised, turning against liberal and secular values. I wanted to find out what processes contributed to this change. The work of fellow researchers appeared to be characterised by their fascination for radicalisation, from a distance. The primary reason for this neglect can be attributed to access, because groups like HT operate in a secretive manner. So, this begs the question, how does one study HT?

Although there has been significant study of radicalisation, little research has used an empirical approach to study this phenomenon. After reading major works, and through personal contact with some of the main theorists and researchers engaged in the debates, I noticed a number of problems concerning the lack of access to primary encounters. This is because radical Islamic groups, like HT, operate in a clandestine fashion and use morally unacceptable behaviour to achieve their goals, making it difficult to record their activities in real settings. Also, the social world of radicals was not properly constructed, providing only a partial picture of the radicalisation process. Initially, in order to overcome these barriers, I needed to navigate around the problem of accessibility. None of the existing approaches I had studied gave sufficient insight into this problem. For this reason, I adopted an ethnographic approach, because it provided me with an opportunity to study the activities of group members in their natural surroundings.

This approach allowed me to study the activities of HT members, to see how they make sense of their surroundings. A cursory appraisal of previous approaches to radicalisation showed that most theorists rejected ‘participant observation’ of radical groups, because it was adjudged impractical and unworkable. However, after spending several years interacting with members of HT through participant observation, I was able to interpret their social world, giving me an insight into h...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title Page
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• List of Tables
• 1 Penetrating the Clandestine Veil
• 2 The Origin of Hizb ut-Tahrir
• 3 Exporting HT to Britain
• 4 Defining HT Radicalisation
• 5 Radical Pathways I: Profiles of Male HT Members
• 6 Radical Pathways II: Profiles of Female HT Members
• 7 Radicalisation: ‘It’s in the demographics’
• 8 A Conveyor Belt for Terrorism?
• 9 Demystifying the Schemata of HT Radicalisation
• Bibliography
• Index