You
Can’t Understand ISIS If You Don’t Know the
History of Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia
By
Alastair Crooke
July
14, 2017 "Information
Clearing House"
- BEIRUT — The dramatic arrival of Da’ish
(ISIS) on the stage of Iraq has shocked many in
the West. Many have been perplexed — and
horrified — by its violence and its evident
magnetism for Sunni youth. But more than this,
they find Saudi Arabia’s ambivalence in the face
of this manifestation both troubling and
inexplicable, wondering, “Don’t the Saudis
understand that ISIS threatens them, too?”
It
appears — even now — that Saudi Arabia’s ruling
elite is divided. Some applaud that ISIS is
fighting Iranian Shiite “fire” with Sunni
“fire”; that a new Sunni state is taking shape
at the very heart of what they regard as a
historical Sunni patrimony; and they are drawn
by Da’ish’s strict Salafist ideology.
Other
Saudis are more fearful, and recall the history
of the revolt against Abd-al Aziz by the
Wahhabist Ikhwan (Disclaimer: this Ikhwan has
nothing to do with the Muslim Brotherhood Ikhwan
— please note, all further references hereafter
are to the Wahhabist Ikhwan, and not to the
Muslim Brotherhood Ikhwan), but which nearly
imploded Wahhabism and the al-Saud in the late
1920s.
Many Saudis are deeply disturbed by the radical
doctrines of Da’ish (ISIS) — and are beginning
to
question some
aspects of Saudi Arabia’s direction and
discourse.
THE SAUDI
DUALITY
Saudi
Arabia’s internal discord and tensions over ISIS
can only be understood by grasping the inherent
(and persisting) duality that lies at the core
of the Kingdom’s doctrinal makeup and its
historical origins.
One
dominant strand to the Saudi identity pertains
directly to Muhammad ibn ʿAbd al-Wahhab (the
founder of Wahhabism), and the use to which his
radical, exclusionist puritanism was put by Ibn
Saud. (The latter was then no more than a minor
leader — amongst many — of continually sparring
and raiding Bedouin tribes in the baking and
desperately poor deserts of the Nejd.)
The
second strand to this perplexing duality,
relates precisely to King Abd-al Aziz’s
subsequent shift towards statehood in the 1920s:
his curbing of Ikhwani violence (in order to
have diplomatic standing as a nation-state with
Britain and America); his institutionalization
of the original Wahhabist impulse — and the
subsequent seizing of the opportunely surging
petrodollar spigot in the 1970s, to channel the
volatile Ikhwani current away from home towards
export — by diffusing a cultural revolution,
rather than violent revolution throughout the
Muslim world.
But
this “cultural revolution” was no docile
reformism. It was a revolution based on Abd al-Wahhab’s
Jacobin-like hatred for the putrescence and
deviationism that he perceived all about him —
hence his call to purge Islam of all its
heresies and idolatries.
MUSLIM
IMPOSTORS
The American author and journalist, Steven Coll,
has
written how
this austere and censorious disciple of the 14th
century scholar Ibn Taymiyyah, Abd al-Wahhab,
despised “the decorous, arty, tobacco smoking,
hashish imbibing, drum pounding Egyptian and
Ottoman nobility who travelled across Arabia to
pray at Mecca.”
In Abd
al-Wahhab’s view, these were not Muslims; they
were imposters masquerading as Muslims. Nor,
indeed, did he find the behavior of local
Bedouin Arabs much better. They aggravated Abd
al-Wahhab by their honoring of saints, by their
erecting of tombstones, and their “superstition”
(e.g. revering graves or places that were deemed
particularly imbued with the divine).
All
this behavior, Abd al-Wahhab denounced as
bida — forbidden by God.
Like
Taymiyyah before him, Abd al-Wahhab believed
that the period of the Prophet Muhammad’s stay
in Medina was the ideal of Muslim society (the
“best of times”), to which all Muslims should
aspire to emulate (this, essentially, is
Salafism).
Taymiyyah had declared war on Shi’ism, Sufism
and Greek philosophy. He spoke out, too against
visiting the grave of the prophet and the
celebration of his birthday, declaring that all
such behavior represented mere imitation of the
Christian worship of Jesus as God (i.e.
idolatry). Abd al-Wahhab assimilated all this
earlier teaching, stating that “any doubt or
hesitation” on the part of a believer in respect
to his or her acknowledging this particular
interpretation of Islam should
“deprive a man of immunity of his
property and his life.”
One of
the main tenets of Abd al-Wahhab’s doctrine has
become the key idea of takfir. Under
the takfiri doctrine, Abd al-Wahhab and his
followers could deem fellow Muslims infidels
should they engage in activities that in any way
could be said to encroach on the sovereignty of
the absolute Authority (that is, the King). Abd
al-Wahhab denounced all Muslims who honored the
dead, saints, or angels. He held that such
sentiments detracted from the complete
subservience one must feel towards God, and only
God. Wahhabi Islam thus bans any prayer to
saints and dead loved ones, pilgrimages to tombs
and special mosques, religious festivals
celebrating saints, the honoring of the Muslim
Prophet Muhammad’s birthday, and even prohibits
the use of gravestones when burying the dead.
Those
who would not conform to this view should be
killed, their wives and daughters violated,
and their possessions confiscated, he wrote.
Abd
al-Wahhab demanded conformity — a conformity
that was to be demonstrated in physical and
tangible ways. He argued that all Muslims must
individually pledge their allegiance to a single
Muslim leader (a Caliph, if there were one).
Those who would not conform to this view
should be killed,
their wives and daughters violated, and their
possessions confiscated, he wrote. The list of
apostates meriting death included the Shiite,
Sufis and other Muslim denominations, whom Abd
al-Wahhab did not consider to be Muslim at all.
There
is nothing here that separates Wahhabism from
ISIS. The rift would emerge only later: from the
subsequent institutionalization of Muhammad ibn
ʿAbd al-Wahhab’s doctrine of “One Ruler, One
Authority, One Mosque” — these three pillars
being taken respectively to refer to the Saudi
king, the absolute authority of official
Wahhabism, and its control of “the word” (i.e.
the mosque).
It is
this rift — the ISIS denial of these three
pillars on which the whole of Sunni authority
presently rests — makes ISIS, which in all other
respects conforms to Wahhabism, a deep threat to
Saudi Arabia.
BRIEF
HISTORY 1741- 1818
Abd al-Wahhab’s
advocacy of these ultra radical views inevitably
led to his expulsion from his own town — and in
1741, after some wanderings, he found refuge
under the protection of Ibn Saud and his tribe.
What Ibn Saud perceived in Abd al-Wahhab’s novel
teaching was the means to overturn Arab
tradition and convention. It was a path to
seizing power.
Their
strategy — like that of ISIS today — was to
bring the peoples whom they conquered into
submission. They aimed to instill fear.
Ibn
Saud’s clan, seizing on Abd al-Wahhab’s
doctrine, now could do what they always did,
which was raiding neighboring villages and
robbing them of their possessions. Only now they
were doing it not within the ambit of Arab
tradition, but rather under the banner of
jihad. Ibn Saud and Abd al-Wahhab also
reintroduced the idea of martyrdom in the name
of jihad, as it granted those martyred immediate
entry into paradise.
In the
beginning, they conquered a few local
communities and imposed their rule over them.
(The conquered inhabitants were given a limited
choice: conversion to Wahhabism or death.) By
1790, the Alliance controlled most of the
Arabian Peninsula and repeatedly raided Medina,
Syria and Iraq.
Their
strategy — like that of ISIS today — was to
bring the peoples whom they conquered into
submission. They aimed to instill fear. In 1801,
the Allies attacked the Holy City of Karbala in
Iraq. They massacred thousands of Shiites,
including women and children. Many Shiite
shrines were destroyed, including the shrine of
Imam Hussein, the murdered grandson of Prophet
Muhammad.
A
British official, Lieutenant Francis Warden,
observing the situation at the time, wrote:
“They pillaged the whole of it [Karbala], and
plundered the Tomb of Hussein... slaying in the
course of the day, with circumstances of
peculiar cruelty, above five thousand of the
inhabitants ...”
Osman
Ibn Bishr Najdi, the historian of the first
Saudi state, wrote that Ibn Saud committed a
massacre in Karbala in 1801. He proudly
documented that massacre saying, “we took
Karbala and slaughtered and took its people (as
slaves), then praise be to Allah, Lord of the
Worlds, and we do not apologize for that and
say: ‘And to the unbelievers: the same
treatment.’”
In
1803, Abdul Aziz then entered the Holy City of
Mecca, which surrendered under the impact of
terror and panic (the same fate was to befall
Medina, too). Abd al-Wahhab’s followers
demolished historical monuments and all the
tombs and shrines in their midst. By the end,
they had destroyed centuries of Islamic
architecture near the Grand Mosque.
But in
November of 1803, a Shiite assassin killed King
Abdul Aziz (taking revenge for the massacre at
Karbala). His son, Saud bin Abd al Aziz,
succeeded him and continued the conquest of
Arabia. Ottoman rulers, however, could no longer
just sit back and watch as their empire was
devoured piece by piece. In 1812, the Ottoman
army, composed of Egyptians, pushed the Alliance
out from Medina, Jeddah and Mecca. In 1814, Saud
bin Abd al Aziz died of fever. His unfortunate
son Abdullah bin Saud, however, was taken by the
Ottomans to Istanbul, where he was gruesomely
executed (a visitor to Istanbul reported seeing
him having been humiliated in the streets of
Istanbul for three days, then hanged and
beheaded, his severed head fired from a canon,
and his heart cut out and impaled on his body).
In
1815, Wahhabi forces were crushed by the
Egyptians (acting on the Ottoman’s behalf) in a
decisive battle. In 1818, the Ottomans captured
and destroyed the Wahhabi capital of Dariyah.
The first Saudi state was no more. The few
remaining Wahhabis withdrew into the desert to
regroup, and there they remained, quiescent for
most of the 19th century.
HISTORY
RETURNS WITH ISIS
It is
not hard to understand how the founding of the
Islamic State by ISIS in contemporary Iraq might
resonate amongst those who recall this history.
Indeed, the ethos of 18th century Wahhabism did
not just wither in Nejd, but it roared back into
life when the Ottoman Empire collapsed amongst
the chaos of World War I.
The Al
Saud — in this 20th century renaissance — were
led by the laconic and politically astute Abd-al
Aziz, who, on uniting the fractious Bedouin
tribes, launched the Saudi “Ikhwan” in the
spirit of Abd-al Wahhab’s and Ibn Saud’s earlier
fighting proselytisers.
The
Ikhwan was a reincarnation of the early, fierce,
semi-independent vanguard movement of committed
armed Wahhabist “moralists” who almost had
succeeded in seizing Arabia by the early 1800s.
In the same manner as earlier, the Ikhwan again
succeeded in capturing Mecca, Medina and Jeddah
between 1914 and 1926. Abd-al Aziz, however,
began to feel his wider interests to be
threatened by the revolutionary “Jacobinism”
exhibited by the Ikhwan. The Ikhwan revolted —
leading to a civil war that lasted until the
1930s, when the King had them put down: he
machine-gunned them.
For
this king, (Abd-al Aziz), the simple verities of
previous decades were eroding. Oil was being
discovered in the peninsular. Britain and
America were courting Abd-al Aziz, but still
were inclined to support Sharif Husain as the
only legitimate ruler of Arabia. The Saudis
needed to develop a more sophisticated
diplomatic posture.
So Wahhabism was forcefully changed from a
movement of revolutionary
jihad and
theological takfiri purification, to a movement
of conservative social, political, theological,
and religious da’wa (Islamic call) and to
justifying the institution that upholds loyalty
to the royal Saudi family and the King’s
absolute power.
OIL WEALTH
SPREAD WAHHABISM
With the advent of the oil bonanza — as the
French scholar, Giles Kepel
writes, Saudi
goals were to “reach out and spread Wahhabism
across the Muslim world ... to “Wahhabise”
Islam, thereby reducing the “multitude of voices
within the religion” to a “single creed” — a
movement which would transcend national
divisions. Billions of dollars were — and
continue to be — invested in this manifestation
of soft power.
It was
this heady mix of billion dollar soft power
projection — and the Saudi willingness to manage
Sunni Islam both to further America’s interests,
as it concomitantly embedded Wahhabism
educationally, socially and culturally
throughout the lands of Islam — that brought
into being a western policy dependency on Saudi
Arabia, a dependency that has endured since Abd-al
Aziz’s meeting with Roosevelt on a U.S. warship
(returning the president from the Yalta
Conference) until today.
Westerners looked at the Kingdom and their gaze
was taken by the wealth; by the apparent
modernization; by the professed leadership of
the Islamic world. They chose to presume that
the Kingdom was bending to the imperatives of
modern life — and that the management of Sunni
Islam would bend the Kingdom, too, to modern
life.
On the
one hand, ISIS is deeply Wahhabist. On the
other hand, it is ultra radical in a
different way. It could be seen essentially
as a corrective movement to contemporary
Wahhabism.
But the
Saudi Ikhwan approach to Islam did not die in
the 1930s. It retreated, but it maintained its
hold over parts of the system — hence the
duality that we observe today in the Saudi
attitude towards ISIS.
On the
one hand, ISIS is deeply Wahhabist. On the other
hand, it is ultra radical in a different way. It
could be seen essentially as a corrective
movement to contemporary Wahhabism.
ISIS is
a “post-Medina” movement: it looks to the
actions of the first two Caliphs, rather than
the Prophet Muhammad himself, as a source of
emulation, and it forcefully denies the Saudis’
claim of authority to rule.
As the
Saudi monarchy blossomed in the oil age into an
ever more inflated institution, the appeal of
the Ikhwan message gained ground (despite King
Faisal’s modernization campaign). The “Ikhwan
approach” enjoyed — and still enjoys — the
support of many prominent men and women and
sheikhs. In a sense, Osama bin Laden was
precisely the representative of a late flowering
of this Ikhwani approach.
Today,
ISIS’ undermining of the legitimacy of the
King’s legitimacy is not seen to be problematic,
but rather a return to the true origins of the
Saudi-Wahhab project.
In the
collaborative management of the region by the
Saudis and the West in pursuit of the many
western projects (countering socialism,
Ba’athism, Nasserism, Soviet and Iranian
influence), western politicians have highlighted
their chosen reading of Saudi Arabia (wealth,
modernization and influence), but they chose to
ignore the Wahhabist impulse.
After
all, the more radical Islamist movements were
perceived by Western intelligence services as
being more effective in toppling the USSR in
Afghanistan — and in combatting out-of-favor
Middle Eastern leaders and states.
Why
should we be surprised then, that from Prince
Bandar’s Saudi-Western mandate to manage the
insurgency in Syria against President Assad
should have emerged a neo-Ikhwan type of
violent, fear-inducing vanguard movement: ISIS?
And why should we be surprised — knowing a
little about Wahhabism — that “moderate”
insurgents in Syria would become rarer than a
mythical unicorn? Why should we have imagined
that radical Wahhabism would create moderates?
Or why could we imagine that a doctrine of “One
leader, One authority, One mosque: submit to it,
or be killed” could ever ultimately lead to
moderation or tolerance?
Or,
perhaps, we never imagined.
No
Advertising
- No
Government
Grants
-
This
Is
Independent
Media
|
Part II
Middle East Time Bomb: The Real Aim of ISIS
Is to Replace the Saud Family as the New
Emirs of Arabia
ISIS is
indeed a veritable time bomb inserted into the
heart of the Middle East. But its destructive
power is not as commonly understood. It is not
with the “March of the Beheaders”; it is not
with the killings; the seizure of towns and
villages; the harshest of “justice” — terrible
though they are — that its true explosive power
lies. It is yet more potent than its exponential
pull on young Muslims, its huge arsenal of
weapons and its hundreds of millions of dollars.
“We should understand that
there is really almost nothing that the West can
now do about it but sit and watch.”
Its
real potential for destruction lies elsewhere —
in the implosion of Saudi Arabia as a foundation
stone of the modern Middle East. We should
understand that there is really almost nothing
that the West can now do about it but sit and
watch.
The clue to its truly explosive potential, as
Saudi scholar Fouad Ibrahim has pointed out (but
which has passed, almost wholly overlooked, or
its significance has gone unnoticed), is ISIS’
deliberate and intentional use in
its doctrine —
of the language of Abd-al Wahhab, the 18th
century founder, together with Ibn Saud, of
Wahhabism and the Saudi project:
Abu
Omar al-Baghdadi, the first “prince of the
faithful” in the Islamic State of Iraq, in 2006
formulated, for instance, the principles of his
prospective state ... Among its goals is
disseminating monotheism “which is the purpose
[for which humans were created] and [for which
purpose they must be called] to Islam...” This
language replicates exactly Abd-al Wahhab’s
formulation. And, not surprisingly, the latter’s
writings and Wahhabi commentaries on his works
are widely distributed in the areas under ISIS’
control and are made the subject of study
sessions. Baghdadi subsequently was to note
approvingly, “a generation of young men [have
been] trained based on the forgotten doctrine of
loyalty and disavowal.”
And
what is this “forgotten” tradition of “loyalty
and disavowal?” It is Abd al-Wahhab’s doctrine
that belief in a sole (for him an
anthropomorphic) God — who was alone worthy of
worship — was in itself insufficient to render
man or woman a Muslim?
He or she could be no true believer, unless
additionally, he or she actively denied (and
destroyed) any other subject of worship. The
list of such potential subjects of idolatrous
worship, which al-Wahhab condemned as idolatry,
was so extensive that almost all Muslims were at
risk of falling under his definition of
“unbelievers.” They therefore faced a choice:
Either they convert to al-Wahhab’s vision of
Islam — or be killed, and their wives, their
children and physical property taken as the
spoils of jihad. Even to express doubts
about this doctrine, al-Wahhab
said, should
occasion execution.
“Through its intentional
adoption of this Wahhabist language, ISIS is
knowingly lighting the fuse to a bigger regional
explosion — one that has a very real possibility
of being ignited, and if it should succeed, will
change the Middle East decisively.”
The
point Fuad Ibrahim is making, I believe, is not
merely to reemphasize the extreme reductionism
of al-Wahhab’s vision, but to hint at something
entirely different: That through its intentional
adoption of this Wahhabist language, ISIS is
knowingly lighting the fuse to a bigger regional
explosion — one that has a very real possibility
of being ignited, and if it should succeed, will
change the Middle East decisively.
For it
was precisely this idealistic, puritan,
proselytizing formulation by al-Wahhab that was
“father” to the entire Saudi “project” (one that
was violently suppressed by the Ottomans in
1818, but spectacularly resurrected in the
1920s, to become the Saudi Kingdom that we know
today). But since its renaissance in the 1920s,
the Saudi project has always carried within it,
the “gene” of its own self-destruction.
THE SAUDI TAIL HAS WAGGED BRITAIN
AND U.S. IN THE MIDDLE EAST
Paradoxically, it was a maverick British
official, who helped embed the gene into the new
state. The British official attached to Aziz,
was one
Harry St. John Philby
(the father of the MI6 officer who spied for the
Soviet KGB, Kim Philby). He was to become King
Abd al-Aziz’s close adviser, having resigned as
a British official, and was until his death, a
key member of the Ruler’s Court. He, like
Lawrence of Arabia, was an Arabist. He was also
a convert to Wahhabi Islam and known as Sheikh
Abdullah.
St. John Philby was a man on the make: he had
determined to make his friend, Abd al-Aziz, the
ruler of Arabia. Indeed, it is clear that in
furthering this ambition he was not acting on
official instructions. When, for example, he
encouraged King Aziz to expand in northern Nejd,
he was ordered to desist. But (as American
author, Stephen Schwartz
notes), Aziz
was well aware that Britain had pledged
repeatedly that the defeat of the Ottomans would
produce an Arab state, and this no doubt,
encouraged Philby and Aziz to aspire to the
latter becoming its new ruler.
It is
not clear exactly what passed between Philby and
the Ruler (the details seem somehow to have been
suppressed), but it would appear that Philby’s
vision was not confined to state-building in the
conventional way, but rather was one of
transforming the wider Islamic ummah (or
community of believers) into a Wahhabist
instrument that would entrench the al-Saud as
Arabia’s leaders. And for this to happen, Aziz
needed to win British acquiescence (and much
later, American endorsement). “This was the
gambit that Abd al-Aziz made his own, with
advice from Philby,” notes Schwartz.
BRITISH GODFATHER OF SAUDI ARABIA
In a sense, Philby may be said to be “godfather”
to this momentous pact by which the Saudi
leadership would use its clout to “manage” Sunni
Islam on behalf of western objectives
(containing socialism, Ba’athism, Nasserism,
Soviet influence, Iran, etc.) — and in return,
the West would acquiesce to Saudi Arabia’s
soft-power Wahhabisation of the Islamic
ummah (with its concomitant destruction of
Islam’s intellectual traditions and diversity
and its sowing of deep divisions within the
Muslim world).
“In political and financial
terms, the Saud-Philby strategy has been an
astonishing success. But it was always rooted in
British and American intellectual obtuseness:
the refusal to see the dangerous ‘gene’ within
the Wahhabist project, its latent potential to
mutate, at any time, back into its original a
bloody, puritan strain. In any event, this has
just happened: ISIS is it.”
As a
result — from then until now — British and
American policy has been bound to Saudi aims (as
tightly as to their own ones), and has been
heavily dependent on Saudi Arabia for direction
in pursuing its course in the Middle East.
In
political and financial terms, the Saud-Philby
strategy has been an astonishing success (if
taken on its own, cynical, self-serving terms).
But it was always rooted in British and American
intellectual obtuseness: the refusal to see the
dangerous “gene” within the Wahhabist project,
its latent potential to mutate, at any time,
back into its original a bloody, puritan strain.
In any event, this has just happened: ISIS
is it.
Winning
western endorsement (and continued western
endorsement), however, required a change of
mode: the “project” had to change from being an
armed, proselytizing Islamic vanguard movement
into something resembling statecraft. This was
never going to be easy because of the inherent
contradictions involved (puritan morality
versus realpolitik and money) — and as time
has progressed, the problems of accommodating
the “modernity” that statehood requires, has
caused “the gene” to become more active, rather
than become more inert.
Even
Abd al-Aziz himself faced an allergic reaction:
in the form of a serious rebellion from his own
Wahhabi militia, the Saudi Ikhwan. When the
expansion of control by the Ikhwan
reached the border of territories controlled by
Britain, Abd al-Aziz tried to restrain his
militia (Philby was urging him to seek British
patronage), but the Ikwhan, already
critical of his use of modern technology (the
telephone, telegraph and the machine gun), “were
outraged by the abandonment of jihad
for reasons of worldly realpolitik ...
They refused to lay down their weapons; and
instead rebelled against their king ... After a
series of bloody clashes, they were crushed in
1929. Ikhwan members who had remained
loyal, were later absorbed into the [Saudi]
National Guard.”
King
Aziz’s son and heir, Saud, faced a different
form of reaction (less bloody, but more
effective). Aziz’s son was deposed from the
throne by the religious establishment — in favor
of his brother Faisal — because of his
ostentatious and extravagant conduct. His
lavish, ostentatious style, offended the
religious establishment who expected the “Imam
of Muslims,” to pursue a pious, proselytizing
lifestyle.
King
Faisal, Saud’s successor, in his turn, was shot
by his nephew in 1975, who had appeared at Court
ostensibly to make his oath of allegiance, but
who instead, pulled out a pistol and shot the
king in his head. The nephew had been perturbed
by the encroachment of western beliefs and
innovation into Wahhabi society, to the
detriment of the original ideals of the
Wahhabist project.
SEIZING
THE GRAND MOSQUE IN 1979
Far more serious, however, was the revived
Ikhwan of Juhayman al-Otaybi, which
culminated in the
seizure of the Grand Mosque
by some 400-500
armed men and women in 1979. Juhayman was from
the influential Otaybi tribe from the Nejd,
which had led and been a principal element in
the original Ikhwan of the 1920s.
Juhayman and his followers, many of whom came
from the Medina seminary, had the tacit support,
amongst other clerics, of Sheikh Abdel-Aziz Bin
Baz, the former Mufti of Saudi Arabia. Juhayman
stated that Sheikh Bin Baz never objected to his
Ikhwan teachings (which were also
critical of ulema laxity towards
“disbelief”), but that bin Baz had
blamed him
mostly for harking on that “the ruling al-Saud
dynasty had lost its legitimacy because it was
corrupt, ostentatious and had destroyed Saudi
culture by an aggressive policy of
westernisation.”
Significantly, Juhayman’s followers preached
their Ikhwani message in a number of
mosques in Saudi Arabia initially without being
arrested, but when Juhayman and a number of the
Ikhwan finally were held for
questioning in 1978. Members of the ulema
(including bin Baz) cross-examined them for
heresy, but then ordered their release because
they saw them as being no more than
traditionalists harkening back to the Ikhwan—
like Juhayman grandfather — and therefore not a
threat.
Even when the mosque seizure was defeated and
over, a certain level of forbearance by the
ulema for the rebels remained. When the
government asked for a fatwa allowing for armed
force to be used in the mosque, the language of
bin Baz and other senior ulema was
curiously restrained.
The scholars did not declare Juhayman and his
followers non-Muslims, despite their violation
of the sanctity of the Grand Mosque, but only
termed them al-jamaah al-musallahah
(the armed group).
The group that Juhayman led was far from
marginalized from important sources of power and
wealth. In a sense, it swam in friendly,
receptive waters. Juhayman’s grandfather had
been one of the leaders of the the original
Ikhwan, and after the rebellion against Abdel
Aziz, many of his grandfather’s comrades in arms
were
absorbed into
the National Guard — indeed Juhayman himself had
served within the Guard — thus Juhayman was able
to obtain weapons and military expertise from
sympathizers in the National Guard, and the
necessary arms and food to sustain the siege
were
pre-positioned, and hidden,
within the Grand Mosque. Juhayman was also able
to call on wealthy individuals to
fund the
enterprise.
ISIS VS.
WESTERNIZED SAUDIS
The
point of rehearsing this history is to underline
how uneasy the Saudi leadership must be at the
rise of ISIS in Iraq and Syria. Previous
Ikhwani manifestations were suppressed —
but these all occurred inside the kingdom.
ISIS
however, is a neo-Ikhwani rejectionist
protest that is taking place outside the kingdom
— and which, moreover, follows the Juhayman
dissidence in its trenchant criticism of the
al-Saud ruling family.
This is the deep schism we see today in Saudi
Arabia, between the modernizing current of which
King Abdullah is a part, and the “Juhayman”
orientation of which bin Laden, and the Saudi
supporters of ISIS and the Saudi religious
establishment are a part. It is also a schism
that exists
within the Saudi royal family
itself.
According to the Saudi-owned
Al-Hayat
newspaper, in July
2014 “an opinion poll of Saudis [was] released
on social networking sites, claiming that 92
percent of the target group believes that ‘IS
conforms to the values of Islam and Islamic
law.’” The leading Saudi commentator, Jamal
Khashoggi, recently
warned of ISIS’
Saudi supporters who “watch from the shadows.”
There are angry youths with a skewed mentality
and understanding of life and sharia, and they
are canceling a heritage of centuries and the
supposed gains of a modernization that hasn’t
been completed. They turned into rebels, emirs
and a caliph invading a vast area of our land.
They are hijacking our children’s minds and
canceling borders. They reject all rules and
legislations, throwing it [a]way ... for their
vision of politics, governance, life, society
and economy. [For] the citizens of the
self-declared “commander of the faithful,” or
Caliph, you have no other choice ... They don’t
care if you stand out among your people and if
you are an educated man, or a lecturer, or a
tribe leader, or a religious leader, or an
active politician or even a judge ... You must
obey the commander of the faithful and pledge
the oath of allegiance to him. When their
policies are questioned, Abu Obedia al-Jazrawi
yells, saying: “Shut up. Our reference is the
book and the Sunnah and that’s it.”
“What did we do wrong?” Khashoggi
asks. With
3,000-4,000 Saudi fighters in the Islamic State
today, he advises of the need to “look
inward to explain ISIS’ rise”. Maybe it is
time, he says, to admit “our political
mistakes,” to “correct the mistakes of our
predecessors.”
MODERNIZING KING THE MOST
VULNERABLE
The present Saudi king, Abdullah, paradoxically
is all the more vulnerable precisely because he
has been a modernizer. The King has curbed the
influence of the religious institutions and the
religious police — and importantly
has permitted
the four Sunni schools of jurisprudence to be
used, by those who adhere to them (al-Wahhab, by
contrast, objected to all other schools of
jurisprudence other than his own).
“The key political question
is whether the simple fact of ISIS’ successes,
and the full manifestation (flowering) of all
the original pieties and vanguardism of the
archetypal impulse, will stimulate and activate
the dissenter ‘gene’ — within the Saudi
kingdom. If it does, and Saudi Arabia is
engulfed by the ISIS fervor, the Gulf will never
be the same again. Saudi Arabia will deconstruct
and the Middle East will be unrecognizable.”
It is even possible too for Shiite residents of
eastern Saudi Arabia to invoke
Ja’afri jurisprudence
and to turn to
Ja’afari Shiite
clerics for rulings. (In clear contrast,
al-Wahhab held a particular animosity towards
the Shiite and held them to be apostates. As
recently as the
1990s, clerics such as bin Baz — the former
Mufti — and Abdullah Jibrin reiterated the
customary view that the Shiite were infidels).
Some
contemporary Saudi ulema would regard
such reforms as constituting almost a
provocation against Wahhabist doctrines, or at
the very least, another example of
westernization. ISIS, for example, regards any
who seek jurisdiction other than that offered by
the Islamic State itself to be guilty of
disbelief — since all such “other” jurisdictions
embody innovation or “borrowings” from other
cultures in its view.
The key
political question is whether the simple fact of
ISIS’ successes, and the full manifestation
(flowering) of all the original pieties and
vanguardism of the archetypal impulse, will
stimulate and activate the dissenter ‘gene’ —
within the Saudi kingdom.
If it
does, and Saudi Arabia is engulfed by the ISIS
fervor, the Gulf will never be the same again.
Saudi Arabia will deconstruct and the Middle
East will be unrecognizable.
“They hold up a mirror to
Saudi society that seems to reflect back to them
an image of ‘purity’ lost”
In
short, this is the nature of the time
bomb tossed into the Middle East. The ISIS
allusions to Abd al-Wahhab and Juhayman (whose
dissident writings are circulated within ISIS)
present a powerful provocation: they hold up a
mirror to Saudi society that seems to reflect
back to them an image of “purity” lost and early
beliefs and certainties displaced by shows of
wealth and indulgence.
This is
the ISIS “bomb” hurled into Saudi society. King
Abdullah — and his reforms — are popular, and
perhaps he can contain a new outbreak of
Ikwhani dissidence. But will that option
remain a possibility after his death?
And
here is the difficulty with evolving U.S.
policy, which seems to be one of “leading from
behind” again — and looking to Sunni states and
communities to coalesce in the fight against
ISIS (as in Iraq with the Awakening Councils).
It is a
strategy that seems highly implausible. Who
would want to insert themselves into this
sensitive intra-Saudi rift? And would concerted
Sunni attacks on ISIS make King Abdullah’s
situation better, or might it inflame and anger
domestic Saudi dissidence even further? So whom
precisely does ISIS threaten? It could not be
clearer. It does not directly threaten the West
(though westerners should remain wary, and not
tread on this particular scorpion).
The
Saudi Ikhwani history is plain: As Ibn
Saud and Abd al-Wahhab made it such in the 18th
century; and as the Saudi Ikhwan made
it such in the 20th century. ISIS’ real target
must be the Hijaz — the seizure of Mecca and
Medina — and the legitimacy that this will
confer on ISIS as the new Emirs of Arabia.
Alastair Crooke, a former top British MI-6 agent
in the Middle East, is author of Resistance: The
Essence of Islamic Revolution.
This article was first published by
Huffington Post
-
See
also
U.S. Doubled Support for
Saudi Bombing Campaign in Yemen
Saudi Arabia boosting
extremism in Europe, says former ambassador
Theresa May buries report
feared to show Saudi links to extremism
The West
Must Face Reality: Saudi Regime Is the Root
Cause of Islamist Terrorism
Thanks to State
Department Cables, a Torture Victim Won a Rare
$10 Million Settlement
The
views expressed in this article are solely those
of the author and do not necessarily reflect the
opinions of Information Clearing House.