in simple, visually effective ways by discarding the type and colour of hijab now associated with Khomeinists, Taliban and IS, and rejecting beards of the style imposed by those movements. Last October IS published details of the size and shape of the beards it regards as perfectly Islamic. In Raqqa, IS’s de facto capital, agents from the
(religious police) actually measure men’s beards in the streets and punish those who fail the test by caning them in public.
In Tehran, the Islamic chastity police declared in October that women must not infringe hijab rules even in their cars. In the first week of the new order being imposed more than 40,000 vehicles were confiscated because of such infringements. Television stations in Tehran and Raqqa ran footage of hijabs and beards on the streets of Washington, Paris, London and other Western capitals, as a sign of Islam’s triumph in the land of the infidel. (Communist China did something similar by showing films of Western youth wearing Mao-style clothes in the 1960s.) As the medieval Iranian poet Mahyar Dailami put it: “If you don’t think like them, don’t look like them!”
The next doll, the radical sleeper cells in Western cities, could be detected and uprooted by proper police work within the law. It may come as a surprise to some, but France does not have a special unit to combat terrorism; it has units to deal with “grand banditry” and organised crime. Terrorism is a particular kind of threat, especially terrorism built on a religious matrix, and so needs a specialised unit to deal with it.
In 1996, the G7 summit in Lyon, presided over by France’s then president Jacques Chirac, approved 45 measures to combat terrorism. None of them were put into effect. In the 1990s too, France spearheaded a global debate on how to fight terrorism, mainly by seeking joint action through the United Nations. However, the whole process got bogged down in a debate about how to define terrorism with the sick cliché that “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom-fighter.” Twenty years and so many atrocities later in more than 30 countries in every continent, it is perhaps time for France and the European Union to persuade the UN to provide the international framework needed to combat terrorism based on the principle that one man’s terrorist is every man’s terrorist.
Finally, we come to the doll that represents IS. It is the easiest to face and defeat — provided its victims, among them almost all the Western democracies, really want to do so. Initially, IS appeared to be a spectacular success because it managed swiftly to conquer territory the size of the United Kingdom. But it did so largely because it faced no opposition. It moved into Raqqa after Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s troops had fled. Many people think Assad wanted them to leave. IS then moved into Mosul and Ramadi in Iraq, again because local units of the Iraqi army, feeling no loyalty to a Shia-dominated government in Baghdad that discriminated against Arab Sunnis, didn’t see why they should fight. In fact, IS has fought two major battles, over Kobane in Syria and Sinjar in Iraq, and lost both to a coalition of Kurdish fighters.
This is not surprising. IS patterns its military strategy on that of the Prophet Muhammad, which is to say it organises
ghazwa (raids) against soft targets. The Muslim warrior has always been known as the ghazi, a man who takes part in a
ghazwa. However, a
ghazwa is regarded as religiously permissible only if the
ghazis are more than 50 per cent sure of victory. Otherwise, they should return and wait for a better day. That is what the Prophet himself did in his only attempt at
ghazwa against the Byzantines.
Waging at least one annual
ghazwa became an almost religious obligation for Islamic caliphs and rulers from the eighth century onwards. And for a long while the
ghazis enjoyed a number of advantages. They could decide the time and place for launching their raids as well as which target to choose, thus always retaining the initiative. Their enemies, the Persians still fighting in the uplands and the Byzantines resisting in Anatolia, were forced merely to react, often long after the event.
It took the Persians and the Byzantines almost two centuries to learn the trick. They understood that, facing no resistance, the
ghazi moves rapidly ahead, like a knife through butter, but would come to a halt if he encounters something hard on his way. In Persia the Buyid tribes of the uplands bordering the Caspian Sea decided to use the tactic against the Arabs, by becoming counter-
ghazis. The
ghazwa knife was blunted and several Iranian provinces along the Caspian Sea never fell to “holy warriors”. The Byzantine Emperor Basil I (867-886) also learned the trick and, organising his own
ghazwas, stopped the Arab advance in Anatolia. It was not until 1071 that the
ghazis, this time Turks not Arabs, managed to defeat the Byzantines at the second Battle of Manzikert.
Continuing the tradition, IS goes where it is easy to go and flees from where it is difficult to resist. Last year its forces moved into Palmyra because nobody tried to stop them. Next, they tried to enter Suwaida in south-west Syria and amassed a large number of fighters and weapons for the
ghazwa. The city had the advantage of being home to the Druze minority, providing IS with a tempting target. (Islamists regard the Druze as heretics who must be slaughtered.)
IS carried out two probing attacks on two Druze villages in Al-Huqf close to the Jordanian border in May and June 2015, decapitating five “miscreants”. Druze fighters then came in from Suwaida and engaged IS in a battle, killing 11 of them. IS quietly withdrew.
IS understood that the Druze would not quietly go to slaughter as the peace-loving Yazidis in Iraq had done. As Druze fighters from everywhere, including Lebanon and Jordan, poured into Suwaida for the showdown, IS realised that the cost-benefit of the projected
ghazwa was not worth the effort. The caravan of
ghazis had to make a U-turn back to Palmyra and Raqqa.
IS also decided to run away with its tail between its legs after planning a ghazwa against Jordan, where Zarqa, the birthplace of Abu-Misaab al-Zarqawi, the patron saint of the caliphate, is located. However, that ghazwa, too, had to be shelved for another day when it became clear that, unlike the Iraqi and Syrian armies, the Jordanians were determined to give the caliph a run for his money.
IS is not a classical terrorist organisation. It is an enemy of humanity, what Roman law classified as hostis humani generis. Thus, despite what President Obama says about merely “containing and degrading” it, it must be defeated and destroyed.
So far, IS has been relatively successful because it has not hit anything hard on its way. The homeopathic air strikes reluctantly ordered by Obama have boosted IS’s narrative of Islamic victimhood without doing much real damage. The last report of the strikes I saw from Secretary of State John Kerry in November put the figure at more than 3,700 over 15 months, a third of them against IS targets in Raqqa. IS has simply factored in the attacks as part of daily hazards, especially because its agents can warn about the approach of bombers over their mobile phones. (Yes, the cellular network operates perfectly in Syria because the company providing it belongs to a cousin of President Assad.) IS has been in control of the rhythm and tempo of this war, even choosing the cadence of the occasional battles it fights.
If Hollande manages to create a new coalition, something still uncertain at the time of this writing, the aim should be to wrest the initiative away from IS. That means turning what is a low-intensity war into one of medium intensity with wider and more frequent air strikes and raids by Special Forces to destroy IS’s logistics and fragment its territorial control. This could be done only if local militias, many of them temporarily allied to IS because of fear or in exchange for arms and money, are confident that the major powers seek IS’s defeat and destruction, regardless of how long that might take. If IS begins to lose its aura of easy winning, it would face numerous hostile armed groups nominally allied with it, because, in the Middle East at least, everyone prefers to be on the side of the winner.
In his message to Congress, Obama asked for permission to take action in Syria but insisted that he was not looking for something “unendurable”, by which he presumably meant a short campaign. In November, Kerry corrected that by inventing a word of his own: “multi-year”. That is how long he thinks fighting IS will take.
There are plenty of people who want to fight IS in Syria and Iraq: the Kurds, the Turkmens, the Druze and the less obnoxious Islamist groups such as Ahrar al-Shaam (Free Men of the Levant), not to mention Sunni Arab tribes on both sides of the border.
In many areas IS is in overall, largely nominal control of territories held by countless emirs who could be persuaded to switch sides. With their help IS territory could be turned into a patchwork of conflicting authorities vulnerable on all sides. IS’s decision to masquerade as a state, a caliphate, may be its chief attraction for Western “volunteers for martyrdom” in search of an Islamic dream. But in military terms this could be IS’s Achilles heel because it offers a range of easy targets for air strikes.
It was precisely by raising the intensity of a low-intensity war that US General David Petraeus managed to destroy al-Qaeda in Iraq. An adapted version of that strategy — the “surge” — could help to get rid of IS. But that requires leadership — US leadership.