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Newsweek
May 8, 2006
Osama Needs More Mud Huts
Global Islamic terrorism is the product of scattered groups. It has much less support in the Muslim world than people think.
By Fareed Zakaria
Imagine if a few months after September 11 someone had said to you, "Five years from now, in the space of a single week, Osama bin Laden will issue a new call for worldwide jihad, the head of Al Qaeda in Iraq will threaten a brutal, endless war, and there will be two terror attacks in Egypt." Chances are you would have been quite unnerved. Yet the most striking aspect of last week's news was the reaction to it—very little.
Radical Islamic terror made big, violent and scary moves and—whether you judge it by media coverage, stock-market movements or international responses—the world yawned.
Al Qaeda Central, by which I mean the dwindling band of brothers on the Afghan-Pakistani border, appears to have turned into a communications company. It's capable of producing the occasional jihadist cassette, but not actual jihad. I know it's risky to say this, as Qaeda leaders may be quietly planning some brilliant, large-scale attack. But the fact that they have not been able to do one of their trademark blasts for five years is significant in itself.
Moreover, bin Laden's latest appeals have a very changed character. His messages used to be lyrical, sharp and highly intelligent. They operated at a high plane, rarely revealing anything about Al Qaeda's operations. In fact, intelligence agencies looked for small signs—an offhand reference, an item of apparel—to reveal where Al Qaeda would strike next. Bin Laden's most recent appeal is a mishmash of argument and detail, and seems slightly crazed. He has broadened his verbal attacks against the "Zionist-Crusaders" to include the United Nations and China. The latter he condemns because it "represents the Buddhists and Pagans of the world."
Like Hitler crazily declaring war on the United States after Pearl Harbor, bin Laden is adding to his slew of formidable enemies: China was the only major world power that was unconcerned about him. (And his reference to the United Nations as a "Zionist-Crusader tool" would surely surprise most Israelis.) Bin Laden also makes some plaintive appeals to Muslims to rise up and attack the "crusaders" in the west of Sudan. This shows desperation because there are no "crusaders" in Sudan. The troops there are African Union peacekeepers. But more interestingly, the victims in Darfur are Muslim. Bin Laden's real objective appears to be to support the government in Sudan—which once housed him—as it brutally exterminates tribes that oppose it. What does this have to do with Islam? Most revealingly, bin Laden makes a parochial appeal for foreign aid, to help those Qaeda supporters in Waziristan who have been rendered homeless by Pakistani Army attacks. That suggests he and his friends are having a rough time. Strip away the usual hot air, and bin Laden's audiotape is the sign of a seriously weakened man.
It is now widely accepted that Al Qaeda Central no longer has much to do with the specific terrorist attacks—even the most bloody ones, in Madrid, Sinai and London—that have taken place in the past three years. These appear to be the work of smaller, local groups, often inspired by Al Qaeda but not directed by it. The result of this decentralization, however, is that the attacks lack coherence and strategic sense. Al Qaeda Central would attack large symbolic targets (the World Trade Center) or government facilities (embassies, ships), but smaller groups do what they can, going after cafés, hotels and train stations. The result—local civilians die, which enrages the public. After a while the attacks also begin to feel less cataclysmic. People realize that life goes on. In Egypt, the stock market shrugged off last week's terror attacks; hotels in Sinai (where the bombs exploded) reported a small number of cancellations, and the public seemed increasingly angry at the terror groups.
Next in the communications department is Abu Mussab al-Zarqawi's appearance, and for the first time we got to see his face. Zarqawi's motive in doing this is debated, but almost certainly it was an effort to show that he is still relevant. Conditions in Iraq are bloody and dangerous, but they also might be moving out of his control. Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds are struggling, both on the ground and across the table, to see if they can live together. Whatever they decide about this power-sharing arrangement, Zarqawi's appeals for jihad seem beside the point and appeal to a dwindling number of Iraqis.
The danger from global Islamic terrorism is real. But it is the product of small and scattered groups, spewing hate. It has much less support in the Muslim world than people think. There is much to be distressed about in that world—oppressive regimes, reactionary social views, illiberal political parties, mindless and virulent anti-Americanism. But these trends are not the same as support for jihad or for a Taliban-like Islamic state. And it is the latter—terror and theocracy—that are Al Qaeda's basic goals. The evidence suggests that they are not gaining adherents.
The West, and the United States in particular, has a long history of seeing the enemy as 10 feet tall—think of Soviet Russia and Saddam Hussein. But as we paint Al Qaeda in those lofty terms, let's please remember last week, when Osama bin Laden appealed on a crackling audiotape for a little money to build a few huts in Waziristan.
May 8, 2006
Osama Needs More Mud Huts
Global Islamic terrorism is the product of scattered groups. It has much less support in the Muslim world than people think.
By Fareed Zakaria
Imagine if a few months after September 11 someone had said to you, "Five years from now, in the space of a single week, Osama bin Laden will issue a new call for worldwide jihad, the head of Al Qaeda in Iraq will threaten a brutal, endless war, and there will be two terror attacks in Egypt." Chances are you would have been quite unnerved. Yet the most striking aspect of last week's news was the reaction to it—very little.
Radical Islamic terror made big, violent and scary moves and—whether you judge it by media coverage, stock-market movements or international responses—the world yawned.
Al Qaeda Central, by which I mean the dwindling band of brothers on the Afghan-Pakistani border, appears to have turned into a communications company. It's capable of producing the occasional jihadist cassette, but not actual jihad. I know it's risky to say this, as Qaeda leaders may be quietly planning some brilliant, large-scale attack. But the fact that they have not been able to do one of their trademark blasts for five years is significant in itself.
Moreover, bin Laden's latest appeals have a very changed character. His messages used to be lyrical, sharp and highly intelligent. They operated at a high plane, rarely revealing anything about Al Qaeda's operations. In fact, intelligence agencies looked for small signs—an offhand reference, an item of apparel—to reveal where Al Qaeda would strike next. Bin Laden's most recent appeal is a mishmash of argument and detail, and seems slightly crazed. He has broadened his verbal attacks against the "Zionist-Crusaders" to include the United Nations and China. The latter he condemns because it "represents the Buddhists and Pagans of the world."
Like Hitler crazily declaring war on the United States after Pearl Harbor, bin Laden is adding to his slew of formidable enemies: China was the only major world power that was unconcerned about him. (And his reference to the United Nations as a "Zionist-Crusader tool" would surely surprise most Israelis.) Bin Laden also makes some plaintive appeals to Muslims to rise up and attack the "crusaders" in the west of Sudan. This shows desperation because there are no "crusaders" in Sudan. The troops there are African Union peacekeepers. But more interestingly, the victims in Darfur are Muslim. Bin Laden's real objective appears to be to support the government in Sudan—which once housed him—as it brutally exterminates tribes that oppose it. What does this have to do with Islam? Most revealingly, bin Laden makes a parochial appeal for foreign aid, to help those Qaeda supporters in Waziristan who have been rendered homeless by Pakistani Army attacks. That suggests he and his friends are having a rough time. Strip away the usual hot air, and bin Laden's audiotape is the sign of a seriously weakened man.
It is now widely accepted that Al Qaeda Central no longer has much to do with the specific terrorist attacks—even the most bloody ones, in Madrid, Sinai and London—that have taken place in the past three years. These appear to be the work of smaller, local groups, often inspired by Al Qaeda but not directed by it. The result of this decentralization, however, is that the attacks lack coherence and strategic sense. Al Qaeda Central would attack large symbolic targets (the World Trade Center) or government facilities (embassies, ships), but smaller groups do what they can, going after cafés, hotels and train stations. The result—local civilians die, which enrages the public. After a while the attacks also begin to feel less cataclysmic. People realize that life goes on. In Egypt, the stock market shrugged off last week's terror attacks; hotels in Sinai (where the bombs exploded) reported a small number of cancellations, and the public seemed increasingly angry at the terror groups.
Next in the communications department is Abu Mussab al-Zarqawi's appearance, and for the first time we got to see his face. Zarqawi's motive in doing this is debated, but almost certainly it was an effort to show that he is still relevant. Conditions in Iraq are bloody and dangerous, but they also might be moving out of his control. Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds are struggling, both on the ground and across the table, to see if they can live together. Whatever they decide about this power-sharing arrangement, Zarqawi's appeals for jihad seem beside the point and appeal to a dwindling number of Iraqis.
The danger from global Islamic terrorism is real. But it is the product of small and scattered groups, spewing hate. It has much less support in the Muslim world than people think. There is much to be distressed about in that world—oppressive regimes, reactionary social views, illiberal political parties, mindless and virulent anti-Americanism. But these trends are not the same as support for jihad or for a Taliban-like Islamic state. And it is the latter—terror and theocracy—that are Al Qaeda's basic goals. The evidence suggests that they are not gaining adherents.
The West, and the United States in particular, has a long history of seeing the enemy as 10 feet tall—think of Soviet Russia and Saddam Hussein. But as we paint Al Qaeda in those lofty terms, let's please remember last week, when Osama bin Laden appealed on a crackling audiotape for a little money to build a few huts in Waziristan.
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