ISIS: The State of Terror Part 10

We recommend that a conference be dedicated to airing these issues publicly, with partic.i.p.ants from both the public and private sector, with an eye toward establis.h.i.+ng some consistent, reasonable practices and clearly defining areas that require more study or the resolution of more complicated questions.

HOW TO DEAL WITH ISIS'S MESSAGE CONTENT Governments around the world have invested considerable funds under the heading of countering violent extremism (CVE), which can be loosely defined as the use of tools other than killing and incarceration to combat terrorist and extremist groups.

These initiatives take a wide variety of forms-too wide, as most pract.i.tioners would agree. After September 11, vast pools of money became available for CVE, which resulted in many people repurposing their pet projects under that heading.

On top of that, well-intentioned efforts at community building have been generously funded as CVE despite a near-total lack of evidence that they actually prevent violent extremism in any meaningful way-town halls and soccer leagues, as the joke in the pract.i.tioner community goes. Similar dynamics apply on the grand stage of world politics, where nation-building exercises such as foreign aid, jobs programs, education initiatives, and democratic reforms are taken on faith as ways to inoculate countries and regions against violent extremism. The fact that Germany and the United Kingdom each appear to have provided more foreign fighters to ISIS than Somalia should call some of those a.s.sumptions into question.

While there is arguably little downside in trying to do good works for communities and nations, there is a risk that promoting such projects as CVE will result in a future consensus that CVE as a general idea does not and cannot work, or worse, that it is simply a budgetary boondoggle for funding pet projects.

There are many challenges in demonstrating that "positive" CVE initiatives work, but we can see very clearly the tools that ISIS uses to radicalize potential recruits and recruit those who are already radicalized. Rather than spending our resources on uncertain and potentially wasteful wagers on nation building, the more obvious course is to thoroughly catalog what ISIS is doing to achieve its goals and disrupt both its distribution, as discussed above, and the integrity of its messaging content.

The State Department's Center for Strategic Counterterrorism Communications has worked to do this on Twitter by mocking and discrediting ISIS messaging and challenging ISIS supporters directly, both in Arabic and English. The initiative has received decidedly mixed reviews from many a.n.a.lysts.29 We believe it is a step in the right direction, albeit one that can be refined and improved.

The ISIS propaganda machine is a calculated affair. It has five major goals, all of which involve an effort to simplify the complexity of the real world into a cartoonish battle between good and evil: *To project an image of strength and victory.

*To excite those with violent tendencies by pairing extreme violence with a moral justification in the form of its alleged utopian society.

*To manipulate the perceptions of ordinary citizens in its enemies' lands to incite demand for military action, while at the same time planting doubt that such action can succeed.

*To place the blame for any conflict that does result on the aggression of Western governments and the incitement of "Zionists."

*To recast any military action against ISIS as an action against Muslims in general, specifically by highlighting civilian casualties.

Each of these goals is vulnerable to a messaging counteroffensive, but some Western messaging reinforces ISIS's goals-such as news stories repeatedly describing ISIS videos as "terrifying" or overstated descriptions of the threat the organization presents. Such statements are an effort to combat ISIS's message with a similarly (not equally) simplified narrative, and they ultimately serve to reinforce ISIS's goal of framing its place in the world as part of a cosmic battle between pure good and pure evil.

Therefore a first step in countering ISIS is to put it in perspective. We should not downplay its threat below a realistic level-that only sets up future hysteria by creating unrealistic expectations. But neither should we inflate it.

ISIS relies on its projection of strength and the illusion of utopian domestic tranquility. Even under the coalition a.s.sault, it has labored to maintain its aura of invincibility and defiance. Changing conditions on the ground could cause ISIS to s.h.i.+ft its message focus, which would offer a powerful opportunity for countermessaging. But regardless of whether that happens, the West should use every tool available to counter ISIS's stage-managed illusions with the harsh reality.

When Western policy makers discuss "degrading" ISIS, it should be in the context of forcing ISIS to make visible concessions in order to counter military pressure. Strikes designed to degrade the group's real internal strength are good, but our targeting priorities should also aim to expose vulnerabilities.

While we can make some progress amplifying the stories of defectors and refugees from areas ISIS controls, we can make even more by fully exploiting aerial and electronic surveillance and remote imaging to show what really happens in the belly of the beast.

We should pay particular attention to doc.u.menting war crimes and atrocities against Sunni Muslims in regions controlled by ISIS. It is patently obvious that ISIS has no qualms about advertising its war crimes against certain cla.s.ses of people-s.h.i.+'a Muslims primarily, and religious minorities such as the Yazidis.

To simply highlight ISIS's barbarity is inadequate to undercut its messaging goals; in many cases, it accomplishes them. There is no doubt that ISIS wants to send a message about its harsh treatment of enemies. Amplifying the very messages the group wishes may resonate with an audience that already opposes ISIS, but it may further energize those who are vulnerable to its radicalizing influence.

While ISIS does not completely suppress information about its ma.s.sacres against uncooperative Sunni tribes in the region, neither does it highlight them. And such stories have impact. In August, global jihadists on social media were enraged by an ISIS ma.s.sacre of hundreds of Sunni tribesmen. By doc.u.menting such crimes, we can make a significant impact on how ISIS is perceived by those most susceptible to its ideology.30 We can also degrade the perception of ISIS's strength and its claims of victory by revealing its failures, particularly within its borders, such as incidents in which local people rise up against its control, failure of infrastructure, corruption, poverty, or other forms of domestic disintegration. The sources-and-methods trade-off will certainly favor disclosure in at least some of these cases.

Finally, we can offset ISIS messaging priorities by refusing to play into its apocalyptic narrative. As seen in Chapter 10, ISIS wants to enact specific prophecies regarding the end times, such as a victorious confrontation with the "crusaders" in the town of Dabiq. Our policies and military actions should not rise to the bait. For both military and messaging purposes, it is foolhardy to show up at the exact place and time that an enemy most desires. Whatever ambush lies in wait at Dabiq, let it rot there unfulfilled.

AGAINST ISIS OR FOR SOMETHING?.

Finally, we would raise the question of what we are fighting for.

In the years since September 11, the West in general and the United States in particular have embraced a "war on terrorism" without stated limits. In the name of that war, or as an unintended consequence of its policies, we have vastly increased surveillance authorities, militarized domestic police forces, and used air strikes and drones to dispatch lethal force virtually anywhere that al Qaeda operates. Many of these actions have been taken in response to fear.

Osama bin Laden once said, "All that we have to do is to send two mujahideen to the furthest point east to raise a piece of cloth on which is written al Qaeda, in order to make the generals race there."31 ISIS has exploited this tendency, in part following the blueprint in The Management of Savagery and in part to serve its apocalyptic dream of a confrontation with the "Crusaders" in Dabiq.

We must find better ways to balance our security against common sense and widely accepted ethical principles. That means refusing to rush into war every time we are invited by someone waving a black flag, but it also means taking a closer look at our strategies and tactics, and asking how they can better reflect our values. In the conflict with ISIS, messaging and image are half the battle, and we do ourselves no favors when we refuse to discuss the negative consequences of our actions.

We must be involved in a visible process of continually evaluating and improving the way we conduct war, asking if our responses are not only proportionate and economically responsible, but ethical. For instance, the Foreign Policy Research Inst.i.tute's Clint Watts has tried to tackle this challenge as it pertains to drones, arguing for a judicial process similar to that currently used by the FISA court, an idea we endorse.32 In December 2014, the release of a Senate report on the use of torture by the United States after September 11 provoked a national debate on the morality of our tactics to fight terrorism. Beyond the argument over the results produced by such techniques lies a fundamental question of values and our standing in the world. The use of torture helps validate jihadist claims about the immorality and hypocrisy of the West. We must not fight violent extremism by becoming the brutal enemy that jihadists want. While painful, the process of publicly disclosing and confronting such incidents is, as David Rothkopf argues in Foreign Policy, "very American"33 in its transparency, which, in our view, is something to embrace.

We should be seen, constantly, as balancing the scales of justice and individual freedom rather than letting the weight of groups like al Qaeda and ISIS constantly drag us toward an irrevocable mandate for more action, more compromise, and less concern for innocent people caught in the crossfire.

"The Second Coming," a poem by W. B. Yeats, is often quoted (maybe too often), because it feels so relevant to many modern situations. But its apocalyptic tone and cutting observations could have been written for the challenge of ISIS.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of pa.s.sionate intensity.

The dilemma of Syria and Iraq finds full-throated expression in the poet's words, written as a comment on wars and politics nearly one hundred years ago.

Perhaps these problems are universal in history, relevant again for each generation. Or perhaps they are iterative, situations repeating and refining until the reality of the world is distilled to the razor-sharp essence that the best poetry provides.

It is hard to imagine a terrible avatar of pa.s.sionate intensity more purified than ISIS. More than even al Qaeda, the first terror of the twenty-first century, ISIS exists as an outlet for the worst-the most base and horrific impulses of humanity, dressed in fanatic pretexts of religiosity that have been gutted of all nuance and complexity.

And yet, if we lay claim to the role of "best," then Yeats condemns us as well, and rightly so. It is difficult to detect a trace of conviction in the world's att.i.tude toward the Syrian civil war and the events that followed in Iraq. Why do we oppose ISIS and not a.s.sad? There are pragmatic reasons, among them the explicit threat ISIS poses to Western allies and interests in the region, as opposed to the less overt risks to Western allies a.s.sociated with a.s.sad. But it is difficult to explain the dichotomy between our approaches to each of these villains on the basis of a clear moral imperative. Syria poses a profound dilemma, more so than Rwanda or Bosnia. Our moral impulse is to act on behalf of the Syrian people. But an intervention that simply removes a.s.sad, as the Libyans removed Gadhafi, creates new and different problems for the Syrian people, and these new problems may be even more intractable. Strengthening ISIS would be just one of the possible unintended consequences, but likely the most dangerous-both for the Syrian people and the region.

In the past, the United States has gone terribly awry in its efforts to promote electoral democracy around the world. ISIS is only the latest example of the failure of democracy promotion, although it may be the starkest.

One of the goals for the 2003 invasion of Iraq and the war on terrorism more broadly was to spread democracy, in the belief that "replacing hatred and resentment with democracy and hope" would "deny the militants future recruits," in President Bush's words.34 Democracy promotion-and the claim that it was a critical component of the war on terrorism-became a theme of his presidency. But people in the Middle East were, and remain, deeply skeptical that this was his goal or a U.S. goal more broadly.35 Thomas Carothers, a leading expert on democracy, characterized the policy dilemma this way: The imperative to degrade terrorist capacities tempts policy makers to put aside democratic scruples and seek closer ties with autocracies willing to join the war on terrorism.

On the other hand, some policy makers have come to believe that it is precisely the lack of democracy that breeds Islamic extremism in the first place.36 But these policy makers are wrong in imagining that promoting electoral democracy is a panacea against terrorism. Many studies have shown that it clearly is not. Economist Alberto Abadie found that countries with intermediate levels of political freedom are even more vulnerable than those with the highest or lowest levels, which suggests that the transition from authoritarian rule is a particularly dangerous period.37 Edward Mansfield and Jack Snyder warned in 2007, "When authoritarian regimes collapse and countries begin the process of democratization, politicians of all stripes have an incentive to play the nationalist card."38 This is precisely what happened in Iraq: After the collapse of Saddam's regime, due to their majority, s.h.i.+'a groups had the upper hand. Sunnis felt abandoned and resentful, and were able to mount a fierce insurgency. The elements that led to the violence had not been rectified when U.S. troops left.

Long before the war on terrorism, Fareed Zakaria warned that const.i.tutional liberalism is not about the procedures of selecting a government, but the government's goals. "It refers to the tradition, deep in Western history, that seeks to protect an individual's autonomy and dignity against coercion, whatever the source-state, church, or society."39 Const.i.tutional liberalism argues that human beings have certain "inalienable" rights, and that governments must accept limitations on their own power.40 Electoral democracy, which can lead to domination by the most populous ethnic groups, has to be held in check by something like a bill of rights that protects minorities, allows religious freedom, and guarantees freedom of the press. This is the long-term goal for Arab countries, Marwin Muasher argues.41 King Abdullah of Jordan, who has shown himself to be extraordinarily courageous, argues that fighting ISIS will require the Muslim world to work together. He calls it a "generational fight" and "a third world war by other means." In the long term, he said, the fight is ideological. As threatening as ISIS is to the West, more than anything else it is an existential threat to Sunni Islam. "This is a Muslim problem. We need to take owners.h.i.+p of this. We need to stand up and say what is right and what is wrong," he said.42 Perhaps most important, we must embrace the idea that what we seek is continual progress toward these goals rather than their inst.i.tution by fiat. Insistence on the latter is the way of dictators, the way of ISIS, of all extremism, and its hypocrisy is self-evident. The West has spent decades trying to impose structures of politics and governance in the Middle East, and the results sadly speak for themselves.

This is work that will never be finished; it is a mission to span generations. It requires patience and attention to detail. It requires humility. We in the West must continually ask if we are living up to our own values of human rights and the importance of self-determination, and we must correct our course if we go astray. Like al Qaeda before it, ISIS derives far more strength from our response to its provocation than from the twisted values it promotes.

APPENDIX*

Jihadi Salafism is not a monolithic ideology. Despite our sense that movements like al Qaeda and ISIS share a single agenda, there is incredible diversity among such militant groups. On many issues, they simply do not agree: they embrace different religious beliefs and practices, they adopt different standards of conduct in war, and they pursue different strategic objectives. Importantly, these differences often have deep roots and long histories. As a result, making sense of ISIS requires looking at both the past and the present. It requires understanding some of the early history and core components of Islam, tracing the evolution of jihadi Salafism in the twentieth century, and exploring the issues that continue to divide these groups today.

ISLAM: A (VERY) BRIEF HISTORY.

MUHAMMAD AS A MESSENGER; HIJRA FROM MECCA TO MEDINA.

Islamic tradition holds that Muhammad was born in Mecca around 570 CE. Orphaned as a young child, he was raised by his paternal uncle and belonged to the powerful Quraysh tribe. He had a relatively unremarkable childhood and early adulthood, but around the age of forty he began to have visions in which he received a series of messages from G.o.d. Though initially reluctant to talk about these experiences, he was ultimately persuaded by his wife to share the revelations with his family and community. Muhammad gathered followers slowly, but after a few years he found himself at odds with the people of Mecca since his message-encouraging reform, emphasizing the oneness of G.o.d, and declaring polytheism to be sinful-challenged their religious practices and traditions. Growing tensions compelled Muhammad and his followers to leave Mecca and travel to Medina. This move, known as the hijra or migration, marked a turning point as the new community transitioned from an oppressed minority movement to a self-governing religious and political community.1 The years spent in Medina were important ones, and Muhammad used this time to clarify his message, expand his community, and extend his regional influence. He died in 632 having successfully done all three but without having appointed a successor.

CHOOSING A CALIPH; SUNNI AND s.h.i.+'A COMMUNITIES EMERGE Because G.o.d's message indicated that Muhammad would be the last prophet, it wasn't clear who should guide the young community after his death. By general consensus, his family and followers decided that the community should be led by a caliph. The caliphs were not seen as replacements for Muhammad or as prophets; they were simply leaders selected to rule in the tradition that he had established.2 The first four caliphs, who ruled consecutively from 632661 and were known as the Rightly Guided Caliphs, continued the work that Muhammad had started by overseeing the compilation of the Quran, by consolidating power, and by undertaking a series of conquests. The death of the third caliph, however, precipitated a serious debate and resulted in a fracturing of the Muslim community. One group, whose members came to be known as Sunni Muslims, believed that the leader could be any male member of the Quraysh tribe chosen by the authorities of the Muslim community; thus the term Sunni is derived from the phrase Ahl al Sunnah wa'l jama'a, which means "people of the tradition and community."3 Another group, whose members came to be known as s.h.i.+'a Muslims, believed that the leader needed to be a direct male descendant of Muhammad; thus the term s.h.i.+'a is an abbreviation of s.h.i.+'at 'Ali, meaning "followers of Ali" (the son-in-law and cousin of Muhammad). Ali was, in fact, chosen to be the fourth caliph (and the last of the Rightly Guided Caliphs), but he was a.s.sa.s.sinated after just five years and the caliphs that followed him were not direct descendants of Muhammad and did not have the support of the entire Muslim community.

SOME DIFFERENCES BETWEEN SUNNI ISLAM AND s.h.i.+'A ISLAM Though Sunni and s.h.i.+'a Muslims agree on the core tenets of Islam, the two groups have developed unique ident.i.ties and adopted distinct religious traditions. These differences crystallized not long after the a.s.sa.s.sination of Ali. s.h.i.+'a Muslims objected to the caliphs selected to follow Ali, and questioned the legitimacy of the government. The conflict came to a head when Husayn (Ali's son, Muhammad's grandson, and the individual that the s.h.i.+'a community recognized as the rightful leader) directly challenged the reigning caliph. In the ensuing battle at Karbala, Husayn and his family were killed by the caliph's forces. Husayn's death-his martyrdom-became central to the ident.i.ty of the s.h.i.+'a community.

Over the next thousand years, the s.h.i.+'a ident.i.ty was informed by this early experience with "martyrdom, persecution, and suffering."4 By contrast, the Sunni ident.i.ty was influenced by the political, military, and cultural successes of the Sunni caliphate.5 The two groups consequently came to different understandings of what it meant to be Muslim; moreover, their different historical experiences resulted in different religious traditions. While both Sunni and s.h.i.+'a Muslims believe that mosques in Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem are holy sites of great importance, s.h.i.+'a Muslims also identify Najaf (where Ali is buried) and Karbala (where Husayn was martyred and is buried) as holy sites. As a result, when ISIS (a Sunni group) threatens to invade Najaf and Karbala (s.h.i.+'a holy sites) the objective is more than mere military conquest; it is also a symbolic gesture likely intended to stoke sectarian violence.

Another significant difference between today's Sunni and s.h.i.+'a communities lies in their respective approaches to authority. Within the s.h.i.+'a community, great emphasis is placed on formalized and inst.i.tutionalized religious authority. s.h.i.+'a clergy are educated at sanctioned seminaries where they study for years and become proficient in subjects such as law, theology, and philosophy. At the end of this period, when a student has completed this course of study in a satisfactory manner, he is permitted to become an official member of the community of religious scholars who protect the legacy of Islam and interpret it to meet the challenges of the modern era.6 By contrast, religious authority in Sunni Islam is less centralized and hierarchical. Sunni Islam, unlike s.h.i.+'a Islam, lacks the formal t.i.tles that distinguish the rank of one scholar from another. There is also no clear inst.i.tutional path to religious authority in Sunni Islam. While many Sunni clergy are highly educated in subjects such as law, theology, and philosophy, this education is not a prerequisite for leading a religious community. As a result, within Sunni Islam it is possible for individuals with little formal religious training to become both prominent and influential religious leaders.7 Though the comparison is imperfect for a number of reasons, it can be helpful to think of s.h.i.+'a Islam as being a.n.a.logous to Roman Catholicism, and Sunni Islam as being a.n.a.logous to Protestantism. s.h.i.+'a clergy, like Roman Catholic priests, are educated in a centralized system of seminaries. Additionally, they have formal t.i.tles designating rank and creating a clear hierarchy among their leaders. By contrast, both Sunni clergy and their Protestant counterparts are educated in a loose network of inst.i.tutions. Moreover, neither Sunni Islam nor Protestantism has a formalized system of rank organizing their religious leaders into a unified and recognized hierarchy.

THE CALIPHATE.

During the first few centuries of the caliphate (from approximately the seventh to ninth centuries) the Muslim world experienced significant growth and nurtured a civilization that was the most advanced of the era.8 This period saw a staggering proliferation of intellectual work: "Poetry, grammar, Quranic studies, history, biography, law, theology, philosophy, geography, the natural science-all were elaborated in Arabic and in a form that was distinctively Islamic."9 At the same time, the Muslim world continued to grow geographically and at its peak extended its reach from Spain to India. Ultimately, a number of factors undermined the strength of the caliphate. The sheer size of the empire made administration from a single seat of power difficult, and internal tensions undermined the stability of the government. At the same time, the s.h.i.+'a community continued to challenge the authority of the caliphs. By the middle of the ninth century, the caliphate was a much-weakened inst.i.tution, and those who believed that it was important were forced to justify its continued existence. In doing so, they offered a rich description of the office. The caliph, they argued, should "maintain orthodoxy, execute legal decisions, protect the frontiers of Islam, fight those who refuse to become Muslims when summoned, raise the canonical taxes, and in general, himself to supervise the administration of affairs without delegating too much authority. He must possess certain qualifications, physical, intellectual, and spiritual, as well as the extraneous qualification of belonging to the same tribe as Muhammad, that of Quraysh."10 Despite these efforts to justify and strengthen the office, the caliphate continued to decline. Following the a.s.sa.s.sination of the reigning caliph in 1258-during the Mongol invasion of Baghdad-the Muslim world was ruled at a more local level with no overarching government uniting what had once been a vast empire. In the fifteenth century, however, a number of powerful Muslim empires emerged from the local governments that had come to control the region. The most important of these, for our purposes, was the Ottoman Empire which revived the office of caliph and lasted for over four hundred years. It was a major economic and military power that at its height controlled territory on three continents. The Ottoman Empire collapsed in the early twentieth century when its remaining territories were parceled out by the British and French following World War I, and the Turkish government that took its place abolished the office of the caliph.

Although the Muslim community was led by a caliph for much of its history-during the Umayyad dynasty (approximately 650 to 750), the Abbasid dynasty (approximately 750 to 1250), and the Ottoman Empire (approximately 1450 to 1923)-the office of the caliphate changed over time. As a result, contemporary calls for a return to the caliphate are unclear about what exactly a revived caliphate would look like. Nevertheless, the office is a potent symbol of Muslim unity and prosperity that many Muslims today hope to restore.

SOME CORE BELIEFS AND PRACTICES OF ISLAM.

Though the modern Muslim world is one of staggering diversity-and includes an estimated 1.6 billion people-most Muslims turn to the same sources of authority (the Quran, the sunnah, and the Hadith) and embrace a core set of practices (commonly referred to as the five pillars of Islam).11 Not all Muslims engage with these beliefs and practices in the same way, however. Much as individual Christians understand the Bible and the communion in different ways, individual Muslims come to different understandings of their own scripture and practices. Despite these differences, though, it is possible to identify some central components of the faith: Quran The Quran is a full account of the revelations that came to Muhammad. It was collected into a single written volume just one generation after his death, and it contains more than 6,000 verses. It is understood by many Muslims to be a literal transcription of what was relayed to Muhammad in his visions, and consequently the literal word of G.o.d.12 It emphasizes the oneness of G.o.d, warns that the apocalypse is approaching, and provides broad guidelines for living a moral and upright life.13 Sunnah The sunnah are the practices, deeds, and words of Muhammad. The Quran does not offer detailed guidance on how Muslims should behave in their daily lives. As a result, many Muslims turn to the sunnah-the example of Muhammad-in order to determine how best to conduct themselves.

Hadith The sunnah are preserved in the Hadith, a collection of the practices, deeds, and words of Muhammad and his companions. The Hadith were transmitted orally for the first two centuries following Muhammad's death, but were ultimately collected and standardized. Central to the collection of Hadith is the issue authoritative transmission. In the centuries following Muhammad's death, stories of what he had done and said proliferated; in order to identify which anecdotes were reputable, scholars attempted to establish the path via which the stories were transmitted. A Hadith that is strong is one that is consistent with other scripture (that is, it doesn't contradict the Quran, and it makes sense alongside other accepted Hadith) and well-doc.u.mented (it originated with a companion of Muhammad, it was transmitted via a relatively small number of people, and there are no breaks in the chain of transmission).

The Five Pillars The five pillars of Islam are often described as the essential practices endorsed and followed by all Muslims.14 They include the profession of faith, daily prayer, almsgiving, fasting during the holy month of Ramadan, and pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in a lifetime. Some have suggested that jihad is an unofficial sixth pillar of Islam, but this position is not widely held.

SALAFISM AND WAHHABISM.

While there is considerable diversity in the Muslim world, the majority of violent jihadist organizations like al Qaeda and ISIS are Salafi. Some familiarity with Salafism is, as a result, critical to understanding a group like ISIS.

DEFINING SALAFISM.

Salafism is a loosely organized movement within Sunni Islam; there are no clear requirements for being Salafi and there is no consensus over who should be considered Salafi.15 But there are core features to the movement. Salafism is a call for a return to the beliefs, practices, and sincerity of early Islam. In fact, the term "Salafism" is a direct reference to these early years, and refers to the first few generations of Muslims, known as the salaf. Salafis prefer the Islam of these early Muslims and believe that centuries of human interpretation-influenced by preexisting religious traditions, cultural biases, political agendas, and individual self-interests-have corrupted Islam and led to decline across the Muslim world. They reject this interpretation and maintain that the only sources of authority necessary to be a pious Muslim are the Quran and the sunnah (the example of Muhammad and his companions). In rejecting centuries of scholars.h.i.+p and interpretation, Salafis effectively argue that the sources of authority necessary to being a pious Muslim can be understood without the a.s.sistance of intellectual elites.16 One can, within this model, be a devout Muslim without understanding the intricacies of complex theological arguments.

Despite the modern nature of this movement, Salafis draw inspiration from the scholars.h.i.+p of famed medieval scholar Taqi al-Din Ahmad Ibn Taymiyyah (d. 1328). Ibn Taymiyyah lived in a tumultuous time, and wrote as the Muslim community grappled with the invasion of the Mongol Empire, the destruction of Baghdad, and the a.s.sa.s.sination of the last Abbasid caliph. These events marked the end of a period of great prosperity, intellectual achievement, military success, and cultural development during which the entire region was politically united under the caliphate. Ibn Taymiyyah argued that the end of this era was the result of a corruption of Islam, and he believed that returning to the beliefs and practice of the early Muslim community would lead to a revival of the Muslim world. Like Ibn Taymiyyah, many Salafis today believe that the misfortunes of the Muslim world have been caused by a corruption of Islam, and that a revival of Islam is an essential corrective.

Another layer can now be added to the comparison of Sunni Islam and Protestantism. Specifically, a helpful comparison can be made between Salafism (a movement within Sunni Islam) and Protestant fundamentalism (a movement within Protestantism). Salafis are, in fact, frequently referred to as "Islamic fundamentalists." Though "fundamentalism" is a term that was originally used to describe an early twentieth century American movement (and we should be careful when applying it to other groups) this label can be useful in helping to foreground a constellation of features shared by distinct religions. As Scott Appleby, a scholar of religion at the University of Notre Dame and co-director of The Fundamentalism Project, has noted, what unites fundamentalists is not a common set of beliefs or religious practices; instead, fundamentalists share an "att.i.tude towards religion itself" in which religion is, among other things, "the best defense against the threatening encroachments of secularism."17 In other words, both Salafis and Protestant fundamentalists turn to religion in an effort to respond to the destabilizing changes of a rapidly evolving world.

THE ORIGINS OF WAHHABISM.

Ibn Taymiyyah wrote centuries before today's jihadi Salafi movement took shape, but remains relevant in no small part due to the eighteenth century rise of Wahhabism. This movement, a type of conservative Salafism, began with Muhammad Ibn Abd al Wahhab (d. 1792). Ibn Abd al Wahhab drew upon the writings of Ibn Taymiyyah and argued for a strict interpretation of Sunni Islam. He believed that Muslims who engaged in practices that he considered idolatrous-practices such as polytheism, venerating the graves of saints, mysticism, and s.h.i.+'ism in general-were not Muslims at all. Moreover, he precipitated a series of confrontations by calling on his neighbors to change their practices and embrace his interpretation of Islam. In pursuit of this goal Ibn Abd al Wahhab allied himself with Muhammad bin Saud (d. 1765), the leader of the House of Saud. Over the course of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries the Wahhabis worked with the Saud family to unite the people living on the Arabian Peninsula under a single religious and political authority. This effort culminated in the creation of the modern state of Saudi Arabia, and the Saudi government continues to have a close relations.h.i.+p with Wahhabi religious authorities even today.

SALAFISM: FROM QUIETISM TO JIHAD.

Though early Salafism and Wahhabism are typically thought of as religious movements, neither was ever apolitical. Moreover, a number of important twentieth and twenty-first century events resulted in the movements' increased involvement with recognizably political issues. These events resulted in what Quintan Wiktorowitz, a former member of the National Security Council and expert on Islamic movements and counterterrorism, has described as three distinct waves of modern Salafism: a quietist faction, a political faction, and a jihadi faction.18 QUIETIST SALAFISM.

The quietist faction is, in a sense, the strain of Salafism that has responded the least to the world events of the twentieth century. Individuals in this group understand their central project to be the purification of Islam and do not partic.i.p.ate in politics.19 Though there are quietist Salafis across the Muslim world, the center of gravity for this movement is the existing religious establishment in Saudi Arabia. Saudi Arabia is somewhat atypical for a country in the Muslim world, but the very things that make it unique have made it hospitable to the quietists. For most of its existence, the country has been financially independent due to its ma.s.sive oil reserves, and the ruling family has consequently been insulated from pressures to moderate. Additionally, Saudi Arabia didn't experience colonialism and so its religious scholars were never forced to grapple with the many questions that arise when two political and cultural systems attempt to occupy the same s.p.a.ce.20 In other words, the quietists in Saudi Arabia (the most vocal and powerful of the quietists) have been sheltered. This has allowed the movement to flourish, but it has also laid the groundwork for the rise of the political faction by making the quietists vulnerable to the charge that they are out of touch and incapable of responding to the challenges of the contemporary world.

POLITICAL SALAFISM.

The political faction criticizes the quietist faction for its political naivete and rejects the idea that political activism is un-Islamic. Though this type of Salafism can be found across the Muslim world, the faction was greatly influenced by a subset of the Muslim Brotherhood, a twentieth century Egyptian movement founded by Hasan al Banna (d. 1949). Like Ibn Taymiyyah, al Banna and his contemporaries lived in a tumultuous time. By the end of World War I the Ottoman Empire had collapsed, the office of the caliph had been abolished by the secular Republic of Turkey, and much of the Muslim world was under colonial rule. Al Banna shared the Salafi concern that traditions acc.u.mulated over the centuries had corrupted Islam and he worried that the slow Westernization of the Muslim world was having a similar effect. Like his predecessors, he responded to these crises by calling for a return to the religious beliefs, practices, and sincerity of the early Muslim community. Islam, al Banna said, "does not stand helpless before life's problems nor [before] the steps one must take to improve mankind."21 It is an all-encompa.s.sing way of life and the best mechanism for responding to the crises brought on by modernity. Al Banna went on to emphasize the importance of education, and to highlight the ways in which individuals could be knowledgeable about Islam without relying on intellectual elites.22 At the same time, he offered a justification of militant jihad and articulated a sophisticated political program.23 He founded the Muslim Brotherhood in an effort to pursue this agenda. The group took its princ.i.p.al task to be a full-scale reformation of society with the utopian hope that this would result in a revitalized Muslim world.

The Muslim Brotherhood was an organization composed of both liberals and ultraconservatives. Its influence over ultraconservatives outside the movement expanded when a subset of its members fled the persecution of the Egyptian government and migrated to Saudi Arabia during the 1960s and 1970s. A number of these refugees became teachers, and injected their political engagement into Saudi Arabia's more quietist Salafism.24 At the same time, the oil boom of the 1970s ensured that the Saudi Arabian government had the funds to spread Salafism-now influenced by these politically oriented thinkers from Egypt-throughout the region via a far-reaching network of schools and inst.i.tutions.25 By the 1980s and 1990s a distinctly conservative and political strand of Salafism had taken root in Saudi Arabia and the greater region; still concerned with ensuring the purity of Islam, this faction believed that doing so required engaging in political action and overthrowing corrupt regimes that threatened Islam.

Political Salafis didn't claim to be as religiously knowledgeable or sophisticated as the quietist Salafis; their authority was based, instead, on their political a.n.a.lysis of the modern world.26 In articulating their position, they drew on the thinking of Sayyid Qutb (d. 1966), who had been influenced by both Ibn Taymiyyah and Ibn Abd al Wahhab.27 Debates about whether or not Qutb was really Salafi still persist, but there is no question that he spoke a language understood by both the quietist Salafis from Saudi Arabia and the political Salafis from Egypt. He was, as a result, a central figure in both the growing political Salafi movement and the nascent jihadi Salafi movement that soon followed.28 Interestingly, Qutb's younger brother was among those who emigrated from Egypt to Saudi Arabia. Like many of his colleagues, he secured a teaching position once in Saudi Arabia and offered lectures that were sometimes attended by a young Osama bin Laden.29 JIHADI SALAFISM.

The jihadi faction coalesced in large part due to the 1980s war against the Soviets in Afghanistan. The war functioned, unfortunately, as a "dangerous incubator" in which Salafis from across the region came into contact-sometimes on actual battlefields; sometimes in military training camps-with radicalized groups that believed violence could be a solution to some of the problems confronting the Muslim world.30 Like both the quietist and political Salafis, the jihadi Salafis were concerned about the corruption of Islam and the oppression of the Muslim world. This faction also accepted that the quietists were more knowledgeable about Islam, but they were concerned that the symbiotic relations.h.i.+p between the quietists and the governments (for example, the relations.h.i.+p between the Wahhabi religious establishment and the Saudi Arabian government) had corrupted the religious leaders.h.i.+p. They believed, moreover, that it was acceptable to use violence to respond to this crisis.31 SALAFISM, WAHHABISM, AND ISIS.

By the late twentieth century Salafism had quietist, political, and jihadi factions. Additionally, Wahhabism had managed to "co-opt the language and symbolism of Salafism . . . until the two had become practically indistinguishable."32 As a result, when a.n.a.lysts, academics, and journalists writing today say that ISIS is following Salafi principles, what they mean is that ISIS's ideology contains elements of both Salafism and Wahhabism. And when they say that the movement is following Wahhabi principles, they mean the same thing.33 That said, mentioning Wahhabism unquestionably evokes the thought of Saudi Arabia given the long-standing relations.h.i.+p between the Wahhabi religious authorities and the Saudi Arabian government. As a result, describing the movement as Wahhabi is a subtle reference to the fact that Saudi Arabia has been an influential champion of Salafism. It suggests, in a sense, that Saudi Arabia is responsible for movements such as ISIS because of the role that the Saudi Arabian government has played in facilitating the spread of Salafism across the region.34 Importantly, while today's Salafis share a set of core beliefs-about monotheism, about the corrupting threat posed by human interpretation, and about the importance of returning to a pure and authentic Islam-the movement is wholly decentralized. Salafism has no official leaders, and individuals are empowered to trust their own understandings of the Quran and sunnah. This simultaneous marginalization of religious scholars and authorization of the individual has, according to scholars like Khaled Abou El Fadl, resulted in a crisis of authority.35 As a result, there is s.p.a.ce within Salafism for both increasingly radical interpretations of Islam and the popular embrace of self-proclaimed experts with little to no training in Islamic law (to include a number of prominent leaders within organizations like al Qaeda and ISIS). There are, consequently, significant differences not only between the major factions of Salafism, but also between individuals and groups within the same faction. While knowing that a group is jihadi (and not quietist or political) is important to understanding the group's commitments, it is still necessary to look closely at the group's specific beliefs and practices.

DECLARING WAR: THE PRACTICE OF JIHADI SALAFISM.

Making sense of the disagreements between jihadi Salafi movements requires looking closely at both justifications for engaging in war and accepted practices within war. In doing so, we cannot offer the thinking of "all Salafis" because the movement is diverse and fragmented; nor can we summarize the thinking of "all jihadi Salafis" given that there are clear disputes between groups like al Qaeda and ISIS. We can, however, highlight the issues that separate the non-violent Salafi population from violent Salafi movements like al Qaeda and ISIS. And we can bring to the fore the different interpretations that create conflicts between these jihadi groups.

TAKFIR.

One issue that is central to these disagreements is that of takfir. To declare a person a nonbeliever is, in Islam, a matter of great significance and the process for doing so is known as takfir (the "p.r.o.nouncement that someone is an unbeliever and no longer Muslim").36 There is, as a result, considerable debate among Salafis over when invoking takfir is appropriate. The quietist and political Salafis typically refrain from using takfir, even in the case of dictators ruling corrupt regimes. In fact, the quietists adhere to a "high evidentiary threshold" that makes it quite difficult to use takfir.37 In many instances they do this by differentiating action from belief. They concede that you might accuse a person of engaging in heretical acts, but they maintain that this fails to establish that the person is not Muslim because-unless this person claims that the heretical act is Islamic or in some way superior to Islam-there is simply no way to know what the person believes.38 This high standard functions as a check against rampant accusations of apostasy; because it is difficult to know what a person is thinking, it is difficult to demonstrate that a person is a nonbeliever. Unfortunately, this also makes it difficult to denounce terrorists in a black and white way that might be appealing; the terrorists might be accused of committing acts of apostasy, but without a thorough investigation they cannot be labeled as nonbelievers or said to be no longer Muslim.

Unlike the quietist and political factions, the jihadi faction has adopted a more expansive use of takfir. Groups in this faction have demonstrated little tolerance for pluralism, and prefer instead to effectively excommunicate those who fail to embrace their interpretation of Islam. They argue that a ruler's refusal to heed the warnings of scholars (that is, warnings that the ruler or government is engaged in un-Islamic practices) is evidence of corrupt belief.39 In other words, they argue that if the ruler's actions are un-Islamic then his beliefs must also be un-Islamic. One important consequence of this interpretation is that the religious trials required by the quietists play a smaller role for jihadi Salafi groups like ISIS. Actions, it seems, offer sufficient insight to justify declaring an individual an apostate. This doesn't mean, however, that there is no evidentiary requirement. As one scholar noted, most of today's jihadi Salafis believe that "proper evidence must be presented" to sustain the charge of apostasy.40 The barrier to using takfir isn't wholly removed; it is, though, considerably lower for jihadi Salafis than for quietist or political Salafis.

This more radical approach to takfir has clear roots in the positions articulated by Ibn Abd al Wahhab. It can also, however, be traced to the early twentieth century Indo-Pakistani Islamic scholar Sayyid Abu'l A'la Mawdudi (d. 1979). Mawdudi argued that the world was experiencing a modern jahiliyyah-a period of ignorance; "a government system, ideology, or inst.i.tution based on values other than those referring to G.o.d"-that threatened Islam.41 He argued that it was the duty of true Muslims to respond to this crisis by fighting against the influence of the heretical individuals that undermined Islam.42 For Mawdudi, it was critically important to differentiate between believers and nonbelievers. In separating the two, he argued that those whose behavior was not wholly Islamic were nonbelievers.43 In other words, Mawdudi believed that much of the Muslim world was ruled and inhabited by nonbelievers, and that devout Muslims were obligated to change these circ.u.mstances. Mawdudi was read extensively by Qutb who agreed that the world was experiencing a modern jahiliyyah, accepted that much of the Muslim world was ruled and inhabited by nonbelievers, and embraced the idea that Muslims were obligated to respond to this crisis.44 Unlike Mawdudi, though, Qutb concluded that this obligation must take the form of militant jihad.

JIHAD.

Jihad is an incredibly complex term. In the Quran, it is used to "refer to the act of striving to serve the purposes of G.o.d on this earth."45 In some instances this might mean struggling to be a good person; in other instances this might mean fighting on a battlefield. The word has, as a result, been used to capture a wide spectrum of behaviors ranging from spiritual struggle (sometimes referred to as greater jihad) to armed conflict (sometimes referred to as lesser jihad). In the context of jihadi Salafism, jihad most frequently refers to physical warfare or armed struggle. It is this particular definition of jihad that Mawdudi and Qutb were invoking, and it is the call to this type of jihad that they split over. Mawdudi didn't object to violence on principle and much of his project does sound revolutionary.46 In fact, though, he advocated for a methodical approach to reform and preferred political solutions to violent ones. He maintained that only a government could declare a jihad, he insisted that it be an option of last resort, and he suggested that it could only be pursued when there was some a.s.surance of victory.47 His was a decidedly moderate approach to jihad. Qutb, by contrast, adopted a more aggressive approach. He criticized the idea that corrupt governments could be changed from within the system and instead advocated for revolution. However, he understood militant jihad to be merely part of the solution and he insisted that it be coupled with an internal re-education.48 He did not-notwithstanding his reputation as the founder of modern jihadism-advocate for indiscriminate violence. Qutb's argument was popular and influential as he offered his readers a compelling and articulate call to jihad. He was not, however, alone in this line of thought and a series of increasingly radical thinkers extended this argument (very possibly beyond what Qutb might have accepted).

An important argument was offered, for example, by Mohammad Abd al Salam Faraj (d. 1982), who wrote in his widely read pamphlet, The Neglected Duty, that "jihad is second only to belief," a neglected sixth pillar of Islam, and an obligation of every devout Muslim.49 Faraj rejected al Banna and Qutb's call for education, suggesting that it was no path to change and that militant jihad was the only viable way forward. As Nelly Lahoud, a Senior a.s.sociate at the Combating Terrorism Center at West Point, noted: "Faraj's treatise essentially argued that military jihad and Islam are one and the same."50 Faraj argued for a highly deregulated approach to jihad in which individuals acting independently were obligated to attack corrupt regimes. Quietist Salafis have, for some time, rejected the idea of independent jihad and argued that the sanction of a Muslim ruler is necessary to justify jihad; in Saudi Arabia, for example, individual jihad is impermissible and the country's deradicalization programs take pains to emphasize that "only the legitimate rulers of Islamic states, not individuals such as Osama bin Laden, can declare a holy war."51 Even al Banna had advocated for a regulated approach to jihad, and so Faraj's position was quite radical.52 The jihadi Salafi faction has, however, followed Faraj and adopted this less centralized approach to jihad that doesn't seem to require the sanction of authority.

DEFENSIVE JIHAD.

A similar position-coupled with a gripping call to action-was articulated by Abdullah Azzam (d. 1989). Writing against the backdrop of the 1980s conflict in Afghanistan, Azzam suggested that the non-Muslim invasion of a Muslim territory created an obligation to engage in jihad even if the threat was not local.53 Azzam essentially s.h.i.+fted the parameters of jihad, transitioning away from Qutb's focus on corrupt Muslim regimes and towards a new focus on the defense of Muslim lands. This argument was particularly powerful because it framed jihad as defensive. A defensive jihad is understood to be a justified response to an external party invading a Muslim state; in such a situation, Muslims are obligated to respond. Because defense is a widely accepted justification for jihad (few question that there is an obligation to respond to invasion), jihadi Salafis frequently argue that the United States is occupying Muslim lands by maintaining military bases in some Muslim-majority countries. By casting the Americans in the role of invading force, the violent Salafis are able to argue that their response is a defensive jihad and thus justified and obligatory.

HIJRA.

In addition to framing the jihad in Afghanistan as defensive, Azzam consistently invoked the language of hijra. Hijra is typically understood to be a reference to Muhammad's migration from Mecca (a city that was in conflict with the new Muslim community) to Medina (a city that welcomed Muhammad and his companions). Using Muhammad as an example, many Muslims have concluded that the only acceptable ways to respond to an un-Islamic environment are jihad (that is, to fight in defense of Islam) and hijra (to flee the un-Islamic environment).54 That said, Fred Donner, a scholar of Islam at the University of Chicago, has noted that a careful examination of the Quran reveals that in some pa.s.sages hijra is invoked in a way that is almost synonymous with jihad and is a.s.sociated with "leaving home for the purpose of fighting."55 This is the meaning that Azzam appears to have been gesturing toward when he suggested that Muslim men were obligated to travel to Afghanistan in order to defend Islam. Azzam also argued that these men did not need to obtain the sanction of political leaders before undertaking jihad; they could, in other words, engage in individual jihad anywhere that Islam was under threat.56 Azzam was, a result of these arguments, quite influential. By invoking both obligations-by explicitly linking jihad and hijra-and by authorizing people to act independently, he laid the groundwork for the flood of foreign fighters that have filled the ranks of groups like ISIS.

TAKFIR, JIHAD, AND ISIS.

To be clear, the invocation of takfir has no necessary relations.h.i.+p with the decision to engage in jihad. An individual or group might invoke takfir with respect to a corrupt ruler and yet simultaneously believe that militant jihad is only appropriate on rare occasions. The innovation of these jihadi Salafi theorists was to expand the use of takfir while simultaneously describing militant jihad as an individual global obligation. In combination this meant that there were both more justified opportunities for militant jihad and a requirement to partic.i.p.ate. Thus this thought-moving through thinkers like Qutb, Faraj, Azzam, and others-significantly influenced jihadi Salafi movements like al Qaeda and ISIS. It influenced Osama bin Laden, who took up the concern with Muslim oppression by non-Muslim parties and radically extended the territory in which jihad was permissible; it was invoked by al Qaeda in Iraq leader Abu Mus'ab al Zarqawi who expanded the range of viable targets by arguing that it was acceptable to kill both Muslims and non-combatants; and it has shaped the thinking of Ayman al Zawahiri (currently the leader of al Qaeda) who has claimed that to renounce jihad is an act that betrays Islam and deserves death.57 Each of these earlier thinkers, in other words, contributed a small piece to the arguments used to fuel and justify jihad today.

WAGING WAR: THE JIHADI FACTION ON THE BATTLEFIELD.

Justifying jihad and engaging in jihad are, however, two very different endeavors and important questions remain even in a situation in which a jihad appears to be justified: Who is the appropriate target of the jihad? Are civilian casualties acceptable? Should it be permissible to kill Muslims? What types of violence can be deployed?

SELECTING A TARGET (NEAR ENEMY AND FAR ENEMY).

Most jihadi Salafis agree that it is appropriate to use violence to challenge corrupt governments in the Middle East. Beyond this consensus, though, a number of strategic, logistical, and moral issues split the faction. To begin, there is the issue of whom to target. The overwhelming military and police power of today's Middle Eastern governments were, prior to the Arab Spring, understood to pose serious challenges to those hoping to launch successful revolutions. As a result, some jihadi Salafis conclude that it makes more sense to undermine these governments by targeting the Western countries that support these regimes. This position found a particularly clear articulation in the writings of Zawahiri, who worked with Bin Laden to launch a global jihad in the late 1990s. This approach was not uncontroversial, though, and a number of jihadi Salafis expressed concern that such a move was strategically unsound because it might provoke an overpowering military response from Western nations, and because it might engender anti-Muslim feelings worldwide.58 It is, as a result, possible to think of jihadi Salafism as being divided into two camps: a near-enemy group (committed to the use of violence directly against corrupt Middle Eastern governments; Zarqawi's al Qaeda in Iraq is an excellent example of this type) and a far-enemy group (committed to the use of violence against Western governments; Bin Laden and Zawahiri's al Qaeda is an excellent example of this type).

JUSTIFYING THE KILLING OF CIVILIANS AND MUSLIMS.

Salafis must also grapple with the question of how to engage in the practice of war. Nonviolent Salafis have, for example, typically accepted that the intentional targeting of civilians is prohibited (though they acknowledge that some civilian casualties are likely to occur as part of any war).59 The current practice of some jihadi Salafi groups, though, includes the purposeful targeting of civilian populations. In defending these practices, jihadi groups have articulated a number of arguments. First, civilians can be killed if doing so is part of a proportional response.60 If the Americans are known to be purposefully killing Muslim civilians, the argument goes, then jihadi Salafis are justified in killing American civilians. In making this argument, some have suggested that U.S. war technology is so accurate that every civilian death must be intentional, thus justifying the targeting of any American civilian.61 Second, civilians can be killed if they betray Islam by a.s.sisting the enemy. In making this argument, jihadi Salafi groups have greatly broadened the definition of betrayal to include anyone (journalists, researchers, government workers, etc.) who might be seen as supporting the enemies of Islam.62 Working in this tradition, bin Laden claimed that all American citizens may be targeted because they live in a democratic nation and are directly responsible for the actions of their government. Similarly, a Muslim civilian can be killed for a.s.sisting the enemy since such a.s.sistance serves as evidence that the individual is not really Muslim.

Similarly, nonviolent Salafis have typically held that it is impermissible to target Muslims but a number of jihadi Salafi groups embrace this practice and target marketplaces, hotels, and other venues that they know will be filled with Muslim civilians. In defending this practice, the jihadi Salafis argue that the Muslim casualty is an agent, and not a victim, of the movement itself. In other words, the death can be justified by framing the victim as an (unwitting) martyr and not as a mere casualty or victim of the war. A slightly more complicated argument has been made concerning the targeting of the s.h.i.+'a population. Though many reject this tactic on the grounds that the s.h.i.+'a are Muslims and should not be killed, there is a long tradition of anti-s.h.i.+'a violence among jihadi Salafis. Ibn Taymiyyah identified the s.h.i.+'a as a clear enemy of Islam and Abd al Wahhab adopted a number of anti-s.h.i.+'a positions that resulted in a spate of violence against s.h.i.+'a populations during his 19th century conquest of the Arabian Peninsula.63 This att.i.tude persists today, and has resulted in significant anti-s.h.i.+'a violence in the 20th century. Thus the jihadi Salafi argument for targeting the s.h.i.+'a population-to include Zarqawi's declaration of a "full-scale war on s.h.i.+tes"-has a long and complex history.64 BEHEADINGS AND SUICIDE MISSIONS.

Even among jihadi Salafis, there is little consensus on the use of tactics such as beheadings and suicide missions. Beheading-a practice embraced by terror groups like ISIS and an accepted method of execution in Saudi Arabia-was actually a preferable mode of execution in the pre-modern era because it was considered to be swift and merciful (and in an era with many trained swordsmen there was no shortage of individuals capable of beheading a man with a single blow).65 The adoption of this practice by jihadi Salafi groups has little to do with the desire to be humane. Instead, beheading is embraced because it is a powerful means of expressing authority and an effective way for groups like ISIS to intimidate potential enemies. Unfortunately, the lack of a recognized central authority in Salafism makes it difficult to challenge this practice. Beheading might be condemned by religious scholars across the Muslim world, but jihadi Salafis simply ignore these condemnations and turn to their own religious leaders in search of a justification for this tactic.66 A similar dynamic makes it difficult to challenge the use of suicide bombings. While religious leaders in Saudi Arabia have explicitly identified suicide bombing as an un-Islamic practice, some movements within the jihadi Salafi faction continue to embrace this tactic.67 Justifications for suicide bombings vary, but a.s.saf Moghadam has suggested that we might trace acceptance of this practice to Azzam's argument that martyrs would be rewarded in the afterlife and Zawahiri's fervent embrace of the tactic.68 Importantly, jihadi Salafis concede that suicide is an impermissible practice but they argue that the act should be judged based on the intent of the perpetrator. That is, they focus on the actor's intention to engage in jihad and reject the idea that the intent was to commit suicide. This effectively recasts the act as one of "legitimate martyrdom" and not as one of suicide.69 ISIS'S DEFIANCE: RADICAL AMONG RADICALS ISIS IN CONFLICT WITH OTHER JIHADI SALAFI MOVEMENTS.

ISIS and its predecessors have long been in conflict with mainstream jihadi Salafism and there are major differences of opinion over what we might call the ISIS-approach to jihad. Thus when Zarqawi's al Qaeda in Iraq coordinated suicide bombings at three hotels in Amman (resulting in the deaths of more than sixty mostly Muslim civilians) bin Laden was reportedly "furious."70 In fact, Zarqawi's excesses concerned al Qaeda so much that it sent him a series of lengthy letters encouraging him to reconsider his strategy. Not quite rebukes, the letters made it clear that Zarqawi's actions were permissible but problematic. A 2005 letter from Zawahiri, for example, explained that al Qaeda's goal of establis.h.i.+ng a caliphate couldn't be accomplished without popular support, and that it was important for Zarqawi to avoid actions that wouldn't be understood by the ma.s.ses. Given this, Zawahiri encouraged Zarqawi to reconsider both his antagonistic engagement with the s.h.i.+'a population of Iraq and his habit of publicizing "scenes of slaughter."71 This barbaric and excessive approach to jihad-embraced today by groups like ISIS-remains controversial. Sustained criticism of these excesses has come from a number of sources, including the widely i