Reading is believing
In
the past, insurgent movements have been systematically demonised,
whether it was the FLN, the Mau-Mau, the Vietcong, the Khmer Rouge,
the PLO, the Tamil Tigers, the FARC, etc. etc. Their ideologies were
nationalist and social, often inspired by Stalin and/or Mao. These
were Cold War insurgencies against European and American imperial
dominion, and they had the logistical and/or verbal support of Russia
and/or China. Though they were legitimately fighting to get rid of
foreign rule and oppression, they were cast as proxy combatants
instigated and encouraged by the empire’s Cold War opponents. They
were enemies threatening the existence of Western societies, so that
their extermination justified the use of high explosives, napalm,
agent-orange, drugs, murder and mayhem. Insurgents were savage
terrorists who killed civilians with knives and hand grenades, so
their villages and towns could justifiably be reduced to rubble by
aerial bombing.
For
the first thirty years of the Cold War insurgencies were one-sided,
but in 1979 the Soviet army invaded Afghanistan and was soon
confronting insurgents supported by America and its allies. This
reversal of proxy skirmishing was a paradigmatic substitution that
went unnoticed at the time. It was seen as a tit for tat. Afghanistan
would be for the USSR what Vietnam had been for the USA, a festering
sore whose infection would spread to neighbouring countries. So it
was, and when the Soviet troops left ten years later, the USSR was in
such a pitiable state, morally and economically, that it would only
last two more years. But this opposition of Super Powers, where the
one’s loss is the other’s gain, masked the mutation of insurgent
motivations. Social nationalism had become religious tribalism.
The
4th Afghan war set off a revival of Sunni fundamentalism
unseen since Abd al-Wahhab two centuries earlier. These new
insurgents were not practicing dialectal materialism. They were
applying a literal reading of the Koran. Instead of a one party
dictatorship with a supreme leader, they had a theocracy with an emir
as their secular and religious authority. Malraux once commented
that, just as the 20th century had been materialist, the
21st century could be spiritual. Concerning insurgencies
this was prophetic, for the rest time will tell. Saudi fundamentalism
had set up schools in the Pashtun tribal region along the
Afghanistan/Pakistan border. These madrasa formed the beliefs of the
Taliban insurgency, using the recipes that had provided an army for
Ibn Saud’s conquest of a kingdom in the 1920s. This salafist
proselytism spread to North and West Africa, to Iraq and Syria and to
Central Asia, with generous funding from Saudi Arabia. It was like a
trail of powder waiting to be lit.
Religious
fundamentalism is a powerful force. It set Europeans at each other’s
throats for a couple of centuries and left visible scars. It provides
a degree of certainty that overrides reason and accepts no
compromise. It resides in the other dimension of ethereal existence,
where some primordial being presides over universal destiny. In the
Hellenic world laws were man made. Greek gods were too busy to
intervene more than occasionally in human affairs, and when they did
their motives were more often erotic than moral. In Mesopotamia the
first known set of rules is attributed to Hammurabi, and he seems to
have claimed some celestial backing. Then, according to the
transmitted story, about half a millennium later Moses used thunder
and lightning – he was a famous magician – to give a theological
origin to his Commandments. Much later still, the origins of written
laws in West and East formed a hybrid when man was made god in
Augustinian Rome and god was made man in rural Galilee, and when the
two concepts were merged by Constantine. The god-man made him man-god
at the Milvian Bridge. In the Eastern tradition, Jesus/Joshua was a
prophet who heard god. This did not mean anything to Greeks who made
him a son of god, in accordance with their own mythologies. The only
trace of his passage was first and second-hand anecdotal accounts
collected and written down afterwards. But Christian dogma and
consequent schisms were not about the message of the Gospels. They
centred round the nature of Christ, his conception and birth, his
death and resurrection, and the consistence of the Christian
sacrament, bread and wine or flesh and blood. The East had no taste
for this, however, and as soon as the Greco-Latin influence waned a
traditional god-hearing prophet arose with a new set of god-given
commandments.
Fundamentalism
is the literal interpretation of the original texts. Christian
fundamentalism should logically found itself on the Gospels, but they
contain more parables and miracles than injunctions (love thy
neighbour, turn the other cheek, render unto Caesar). This absence of
solid ground means that Christian fundamentalists go back to the
Pentateuch, which puts them on a paradoxical par with Jewish
fundamentalists. Moslem fundamentalism has the Koran, more or less
dictated by Mohamed under angelic influence, and the Hadith, a
compilation of the prophet’s acts and words passed on by
contemporary witnesses. Fundamentalists have to go back in time.
Their literal interpretation of a text needs a reconstitution of its
historic context. For Jews and Christians this leads to the obscure
times of Bronze Age warring kingdoms and Iron Age migrations, whereas
the foundation of Islam in the 7th century is so much
closer. All the more so in a region where medieval institutions still
existed at the beginning of the 20th century, and where
tribal structures are still in place concerning alliances and land
rights. For those who inhabit the stretch of land that goes from
Mesopotamia to the Red Sea, travelling fourteen centuries into the
past does not demand a great feat of imagination. For them the Hegira
was yesterday.
For
most of the last century insurgents wished for a different future and
rejected their colonial and pre-colonial past. They opposed the
Western empires and took the Eastern empires as models. This resulted
in various one party police-states. These new national regimes, like
their standards in Moscow and Peking, pushed religion into a corner
and some imagined they could eradicate it. Religious organisations
were considered a singular part of a nation’s cultural heritage or
they were reproved as reactionary forces. In the 1980s, insurgency
changed camps in Afghanistan (and Angola). The Soviet army (Cubans in
Angola) was the target and America was supporting the insurgents.
However, liberal market capitalism is not compatible with an
insurgent war so that neither Cold War adversary could serve as a
model, which left the way open for a regression to ancient faiths and
practices. Nevertheless, Afghan insurgents were presented as resolute
Western allies, and Massoud became a celebrity. This enthusiasm waned
when Soviet troops retreated and different factions turned to
fighting one another. It was evaporated by 9/11.
Reagan
and Bush Senior had seen off the Soviet empire and won the Cold War,
but it was Clinton who reaped all the benefits. By the time Dubya
Bush took office the insouciant hedonistic epoch was over. The dotcom
crash had cast a shadow, and the September attack would trigger off
the 4th World War. Dubya had lost his birthright of ease
and golf, he compensated by declaring a global War on Terror. In
“Absolute Friends” (2003), John Le Carré has one of the
“friends” (Sasha) define a terrorist as someone who has a bomb,
but does not have a plane to drop it from. Because the ultimate
terror, all witnesses seem to agree, is aerial bombardment, when
everything explodes in flames and smoke, when bodies are dismembered
and burnt, when fighting back or hiding are impossible. The first
publicised case was Guernica (1937) during the Spanish civil war
(earlier British aerial bombings in Iraq during the Mandate had gone
unnoticed). It provoked an uproar and inspired a famous painting, but
it would soon become a banality and a periodical daily routine. When
asked what he felt when he dropped a bomb on Gaza, an Israeli pilot
explained that his plane would buck when the 1000lb. load was
released. How could he feel anything else while going about his daily
business between breakfast and lunch? Piloting a very sophisticated
machine (F-16) needs absolute concentration, so that any qualms he
might have about the fate of those on the receiving end of his
munitions would have to be repressed, though he might dream of them
at night. The military feel no compunction about killing men and
women, young and old, because they have been ordered to and have been
trained to obey, and because it is usually done with weapons that
kill, maim and burn at a distance. The air force is the most detached
and the deadliest.
The
nuclear stand-off between major powers resulted in all actual
fighting being asymmetric, B-52s against hand-grenades, Reapers
against kitchen-knives. Dropping TNT and toxic agents
indiscriminately from the sky was the civilised norm, whereas
planting a (roadside) bomb at a selected target was despicable and
barbaric. Arresting and torturing all opposition was a government’s
prerogative, but taking hostages was beyond the pale. The asymmetric
fighting produced an asymmetric discourse. Reducing a city to rubble
was far more moral than a check-point car bomb, the first was war and
the second was terrorism. Making war, whether defensive or
pre-emptive, is a regalian power of governments. The use of force
against those governments is banditry. In the past, one side’s
criminal was the other side’s freedom fighter. Then, as the Soviet
Union began to fall apart and its satellite countries ousted their
former governments, the possibility of regime change spread far and
wide. For some the transition was Velvet or Orange, for others there
were violent eruptions, which led to war in the Balkans and Caucasus.
Elsewhere police repression maintained the status quo. However, the
idea that authoritarian regimes were not perpetual was sown and it
would flower, at least briefly, wherever the one-party police state
was in place.
In
the 1980s, as Reagan warmed up the Cold War, religious fundamentalism
was encouraged and used as a weapon, not only in Poland and
Afghanistan. The Catholic pope was an instrument and so was Saudi
Arabia, whose rigorous Sunni ideology conveniently opposed the
breakaway Shia regime in Iran. The Vatican gave its moral support and
may have influenced opinions. The Saudi family used some of its vast
financial resources. They built schools and mosques, they funded
charitable organisations and ended up supporting political
oppositions. After the Russian retreat in 1989 and after taking Kabul
in 1992 the Afghan insurgency split into factions and started
fighting for supremacy. Having no particular allegiance to any of the
parties, this ethnic and tribal conflict left the foreign volunteers
out on a limb. Many decided to go back to their home countries. Their
numbers were small, but the aura of the successful Jihadi may have
weighed in the balance when popular Moslem movements opposed their
governments in Algeria, Bosnia and Chechnya, and when opposition
turned into armed conflict. They prevailed in Bosnia because of a
strong nationalist sentiment against Serbian (Orthodox) dominion, and
because of external (UN) intervention. In the other two countries the
Islamists were pummelled, which caused a lot of collateral damages
and deaths. A few exhausted survivors were offered an amnesty, but
there is still insurgent activity in both countries.
The
first decade of the new millennium seemed a reversion to past
practices, with Moscow sending troops to support its puppet
governments in Georgia and Chechnya, and Washington doing the same in
Afghanistan and – after a mysterious jostling inside Dubya’s mind
– in Iraq. This was classic foreign intervention and curtailment of
sovereignty. The novelty was that these were no longer considered to
be proxy conflicts, so the Chechen got no support from the West and
the Afghans got none from the East. However, it was the fateful
invasion of Iraq in 2003 that set off the new line of fracture.
Saddam Hussein’s one-party police state rested on the Sunni Arab
tribes and the urban Christian Arabs. It excluded the Shia Arabs
living in the South and the Sunni Kurds living in the North. This
situation, with neighbouring Syria’s Alawi regime, maintained a
balance between Sunni Saudi Arabia and Shia Iran. When the Americans
forced a change of regime in Iraq they had to rely on the Shia Arabs,
and this completely upset that balance.
Iran
and Saudi Arabia oppose each other at multiple levels. The most
obvious difference is religious. The followers of Omar and those of
Ali split up long ago. These two paths could be compared to the
Orthodox and catholic variations of Christianity, they agree on the
origin but disagree on how it should be followed up. They tolerate
one another but can use the argument to get into a fight (vis. Serbia
and Croatia). However, the religious split posed no particular
problems when Iran was ruled by a Pahlavi Shah. At the time, under
the patronage of the oil Majors, Riyadh and Tehran were quite close.
The rift came when Iranian revolutionaries installed an Islamic
(Shia) Republic. Religion turned political and the two regimes became
totally incompatible. Sunni make up 90% of Moslems and cannot feel
threatened by the Shia 10%. It is the Saudi rulers who feel
threatened by the 99% of Saudi Arabians. The menace is social not
religious. Religion, as usual, is an instrument of power politics.
Tyrannies have recourse to it everywhere, but it is particularly true
of the Saudi monarchs. Their rule was founded by an alliance between
a war-lord and a religious reformer. Rigorous orthodoxy makes
obedient soldiers, and is a pretext for absolutism. Sunni
fundamentalism is based on texts compiled and written down in the
decades following the Prophet’s death. Shia fundamentalism is full
of murder, mystery and hidden Imams. It is mystical and waits for a
New Coming, which prevents it from adopting the absolutism of its
Sunni counterpart.
In
the Moslem world, the separation of church and state and the
banishment of religion to the private sphere was attempted almost
everywhere, when the nations outlined by European powers obtained
their independence. This forced secularisation (it is always forced)
was perceived by many as a form of neocolonialism, a post-colonial
residue of what had been. It was not a success, and the secular
authorities’ failure to realise social equality and justice gave
the religious parties control of the egalitarian discourse. (The
Protestant Reformation in Europe had been driven by Luther and Calvin
making similar critical judgements of church and royal opulence).
Combating social deprivation and promoting back-to-the-roots
nationalism inspired wide popular support and inevitably ended in
confrontation, with ballots for the lucky few, with guns and
executions for the many. When religious orthodoxies are banished from
power, they form an opposition that can coalesce a mass of
disfranchised, disfavoured and disgruntled people. This happened in
Europe during the 19th century as lay republics replaced
anointed kings. And, in the 1920s and 30s, church prelates would be
instrumental in the reactionary backlash. Elsewhere it only occurred
after the end of colonial rule, as new national governments looked
Eastward for their model.
Belief
in a spiritual hereafter and the numerous systems that have been
constructed around this credence evolve with time, but they will not
go away. They offer eternity, equality and impartial justice, where
materialism can only offer statistical longevity, a housing ladder
and prejudiced judgments. Pies in the sky have more appeal than the
tastiest sausage-roll if it is out of reach. This applies when life
is precarious because of poverty, climate, health or war. When death
looms close, an afterlife can be a great comfort. As for having god
on one’s side, warring armies have claimed it since the first
armies were assembled. Language is the primal social bond. A similar
speech supposes a shared identity. Words give a structure to the
perceived world and they create worlds that can only be imagined.
“The fool on the hill sees the sun going down, and the eyes in his
head see the world spinning round”. Words can build a Theogony and
a Genesis, they can conjure up dragons and nymphs, and they try to
make sense of bosons, gravity and life. Words set down laws, they
give the terms of contracts and treaties, they express all sentiments
and they describe everything real and fictive. And words move around,
bringing new sense to foreign idioms. Words can open up the mind and
they can restrain it with boundaries. Protestant Puritans believed
the Bible contained all the necessary words. That was back a few
centuries, but there are still innumerable people who think that one
or two books can contain the universe. This is psychologically
reassuring in a period of historic mutations, be it five hundred
years ago or today. In the developed world it has become quaint or
farcical. In the developing world it can be as violent as ever.
The
impact of mass literacy has been described by McLuhan in “The
Gutenberg Galaxy”. The passage from an oral society to one that
reads and writes has multiple repercussions. And the books by which
the literacy is acquired are the basis of the new social mind-set. In
Germany it was Luther’s translation of the Bible, in Britain and
North America it was the King James Version, whereas in Catholic
Europe it was the largely miraculous Lives of Saints, a very
different wold view. Then, in the 19th century, primary
school text books became the foundations of nationalist storytelling.
Learning to read and write forms cerebral connections that do not
exist in an oral context. The first building blocks will influence
what comes later. And when the blocks are the same for all, mass
education and its mass media relays generate totalitarian uniformity.
It occurred in Europe, where men went willingly to war in droves.
Each army believing it was the best and only, having read it at
school and in the press. The Chines Red Guards had their primary Red
Book, and now a great swath of people from Africa to Asia has a
primary Koran. And the first reaction to mass literacy seems to be
the violence of certainty. It has been shown that marching together
boosts assurance and aggressiveness. Thinking together seems to
produce the same effects, and the two are easily combined.
The
fundamental Moslem doctrine of Abd al-Wahhab has been propagated by
the oil-dollars that flow so abundantly into the coffers of the Saudi
family. The Koran addresses a tribal society, and its fundamentalist
revival appeals most to people who still live in a tribal
environment. It has spread across North Africa to the Atlantic, and
North of Iran to the Himalayas. It has also taken hold of Sunni
tribes in Iraq and Syria. And the rebellions in this Islamic Crescent
are as sociological as they are religious. They reject the modern
state and the end of communal land property as much as they aspire to
Sharia law. At least since Julius Caesar’s Gallic wars, tribes have
fought to maintain their traditions of land tenure (1). They fought
for centuries in America, for decades in Algeria and sporadically
everywhere. Today’s uprisings are probably tribalism’s final
throes before extinction. Isis is far more dangerous than are lions
and tigers, but like them it is an endangered species.
1.
See Rosa Luxemburg, “The Accumulation of Capital”, section III.