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Making of an Islamist: an insider's account

Hasan Suroor

Ed Husain's story is important because it is also the story of hundreds of other confused young British Muslims trapped in an Islamist mindset that can drive them to violence in the name of religion.

IT IS a slim paperback, and until a few weeks ago nobody had heard its author's name. But suddenly it has become the most widely commented — and commended — book in Britain; and its writer, a minor celebrity. Some of the biggest names in the British media have written about him; he has been interviewed on BBC's prestigious Radio 4; and anyone who pretends to be even remotely interested in contemporary issues is talking about him, and his book.

So, who is Ed Husain? And what is The Islamist (Penguin UK £8.99) about?

Well, Husain is the Islamist of the title, and the reason for his overnight fame is that after flirting with Muslim extremism for several years he turned his back on it and, more importantly, decided to tell the story of his journey to "hell" and back. In another age and a different climate, he might have been branded a turncoat and his credibility called into question. But post-9/11 and 7/7, anyone with a horror story to tell about Muslim extremism is guaranteed instant recognition and uncritical acclaim — much like in the Cold War era when any old KGB operative or communist diplomat, defecting to the West, could expect hero's welcome.

Having said that, what Husain has done is important. His story — the first insider account of an ex-Islamist — is not just compelling but also instructive; and let us not underestimate its significance simply because some of those who have hyped it may have their own self-serving agendas. His story is important because it is also the story of hundreds of other confused young British Muslims, many still trapped in an Islamist mindset that can drive them to violence in the name of religion.

Son of an Indian immigrant father and a Bangladeshi mother, 32-year-old Husain is currently a Ph.D student at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London. But for five years, in his late teens and early 20s, he was an activist of the Hizb-ut-Tahrir (HuT), one of Britain's most controversial radical groups banned in many Muslim countries, including Pakistan. The British Government also has been under pressure to ban it. After the London bombings of July 7, 2005, Prime Minister Tony Blair came close to proscribing it but held back after he was told that a ban would simply drive the HuT underground, making it difficult for intelligence agencies to monitor its activities.

Of late, the HuT has kept a low profile for fear of government crackdown and been less overtly poisonous. But at the time Husain joined it, the organisation's aggressive campaign of brainwashing and recruiting young Muslims to lead a `jihad' in support of its ultimate aim of establishing a `caliphate' (Islamic state) in Muslim countries was at its peak. It was led by asylum-seekers from Muslim countries where they were banned because of their dangerous activities. Exploiting the freedoms offered by a secular, open and free Western society, they soon turned Britain into a base for their jihadi mission, targeting the confused first generation of British-born Muslims.

On British university campuses, there were hundreds of "Husains"— British-born children of immigrants from the Indian subcontinent caught up between two cultures and facing an identity crisis, often compounded by racism they faced growing up in a white country. They were simply waiting to embrace something that would offer them an identity, a sense of their own self, and a purpose in life. And the HuT, preying on their confusion and vulnerability, grabbed them. Joining the Hizb was a way of "defining" themselves against a culture clash that made them feel alien both at home and among white peers.

"Like me, most of the students at college had no real bond with mainstream Britain ... Cut off from Britain, isolated from the Eastern culture of our parents, Islamism provided us with a purpose and a place in life ... we felt as though we were the pioneers, at the cutting edge of this new global development of confronting the West in its own backyard," writes Husain.

Bosnia was big news at the time and the HuT used images from the "killing fields" of Bosnia to motivate young recruits. Events in Bosnia were conflated with those in Chechnya, Kashmir and Palestine to portray Muslims as victims of "persecution" at the hands of non-Muslims or "kafirs."

Husain, who came to the HuT via the relatively moderate Jamaat-e-Islami (though in its own way it is an extremely regressive movement), says Hizb leaders' air of self-assurance, media-savvy-ness, and their extraordinary organisational skills made them an instant hit with the British Muslim youth looking for a "purpose" in life. The HuT conned them into believing that it had a clear-cut vision and a blueprint to achieve its objectives. It had a "battle plan" whereas other radical groups only a wish list.

This is how Husain describes one leading HuT activist, David, a Christian convert to Islam. "David's sense of conviction (about the HuT's goals) was overpowering, his oratory unmatched by anything I had heard in Muslim circles before ... His ability to answer any question that I put to him, his brimming confidence, and radical vision for a future world order were attractive to me, a disillusioned teenaged Islamist," he says. And Husain was not the only one seduced by the HuT's brainwashing tactics.

Soon, British campuses were teeming with HuT supporters and, contrary to the view that it is only socially or culturally alienated Muslim youth who tend to gravitate towards extremist organisations, they included the cream of British-born Muslims — educated and successful professionals who had no apparent reason to be "alienated." Indeed, the HuT's vanguard of volunteers was quite elitist, comprising IT consultants, doctors, architects, and bankers. One of its leading lights worked for Stanley Morgan. "From 1992 in mosques and community centres across the U.K., Hizb-ut-Tahrir appeared as a force to reckon with: young, articulate British Muslims, whose parents had sent them to university for an education, returned as dogmatic zealots linked to a network of (Hizb) speakers and brothers across Britain," Husain reveals.

Gang of thugs

But as he got to know the organisation from the inside — he rose to become a member of the HuT's secret cell structure — Husain realised that behind the mask it was essentially a gang of swaggering thugs who knew nothing about Islam (many were not even practising Muslims) but were simply using it to achieve political power. Their strong-arm tactics to deal with their critics, especially the "kafirs," their rejection of democracy which they regarded as an un-Islamic concept because of its Greek roots and their belief in violence as a legitimate means to seek their bizarre goal of establishing a caliphate began to worry him. The tipping point came when a HuT vigilante knifed a black Christian youth to death simply because he had been bullying his Muslim college mates.

"That murder, a direct result of Hizb-ut-Tahrir's ideas served as a wake-up call for me. Now, every time I saw a leaflet with Hizb's flag and masthead posted above photos of the globe I felt nauseous ... the Hizb's ideas had led to the belief that the life of a kafir was of little consequence in attaining Muslim dominance. I could not bear to be associated with such ideas any longer," Husain writes describing his book as a "protest against political Islam."

The most revealing part of Husain's story is how easy it is for extremist groups to operate in a free society by invoking their democratic right to practise and preach their religion. He recalls how radical Muslim groups forced college managements to give them facilities such as prayer rooms and venues to hold meetings, which they then used to promote their message of hatred. Also revealing is how much the British Muslim community's life revolves around religion with the mosque at the centre of Muslim politics. There is no reason to dispute Husain's claim that his family, despite its religiosity, is deeply secular. But it is also important to remember that he did grow up in a religious environment because of his father's close association with an Indian "pir" (a sufi leader). Husain himself became very religious at an early age as he accompanied the "pir" on his speaking tours. It was the start of a journey that first took him to the Jamaat-e-Islami and then to the Hizb-ut-Tahrir.

I am not suggesting that there is necessarily a connection between a religious upbringing and fanaticism but those who grow up in a mono-cultural, quasi-religious environment are more likely to be swayed by arguments made in the name of religion. Husain will not agree but his life might just have had a different trajectory had his childhood not been so heavily influenced by his parents' preoccupation with religion; and had he not looked upon it as the source of answers to all his questions.

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