Author

Eric Rosand

Nonresident Senior Fellow - Foreign Policy, Center for Middle East Policy, U.S. Relations with the Islamic World

Particularly given the looming presidential election and the uptick in attacks inspired or directed by the Islamic State in the West and beyond, one is likely to continue to hear calls for more of the same: more police on the street, more troops on the battlefield, more rigorous screening of migrants, and more intelligence sharing. With no presidential candidate wanting to appear “soft,” the average of $11.8 million a day the Pentagon is spending each day in Iraq is likely to go up rather than down next year.

The reality, however, is that much more needs to be done to prevent the recruitment of new ISIS adherents and to provide alternative pathways for those who may be drawn to the group, but do not necessarily pose a threat and, more importantly, can be placed on another path.

We must commit ourselves to find ways to prevent disillusioned individuals from becoming motivated to join or be inspired by ISIS; only then, will we have a chance in our struggle against violent extremism. In that battle, the front lines are not manned by soldiers, drones, or intelligence officers, but by our teachers, social workers, mental health professionals, faith leaders and, perhaps most importantly, family members.

Orlando. Dhaka. Istanbul. Nice. To prevent more cities from being added to this list, we must encourage and empower those on the front lines in our communities to do more. Working with individuals that are most likely to notice the early signs of radicalization makes sense and, as we have seen in other efforts, such as those to address gang violence, it can work; they are likely to be most effective in steering an individual away from violence, including by developing programs that offer alternatives to alienated youth.

These same stakeholders are also the key to reintegrating into society those young people who may have been drawn to the messages of violent extremists but who are not deemed a security threat and for whom a jail sentence will only harden their views.

In the United States, a few, ad hoc local programs to prevent violent radicalization have (slowly) emerged in Boston, Cook County (Illinois), Los Angeles, Minneapolis, and Montgomery County (Maryland), where local officials are working with professionals, families, and others in the community to identify disillusioned young people and steer them away from violence.

This year the White House established a Department of Homeland Security-led (DHS) task force to coordinate federal countering violent extremism (CVE) efforts and DHS just announced the first-ever federal grant program (albeit for only $10 million, which is roughly the same amount available in the Netherlands, a country of less than 17 million people) to support community-based CVE initiatives. These are steps in the right direction, but on their own unlikely to catalyze the breadth and depth of a community-led effort—and attract the broad swath of non-federal government expertise—required. The federal government—led by the FBI, DHS, and Department of Justice—is perhaps ill suited to the task as we have seen in its nascent efforts in this area, (often unfairly) accused of stigmatizing Muslim communities, serving as a guise for intelligence-gathering, and violating the civil liberties of law abiding Muslim-Americans. A broader and more integrative approach to engaging community-level and non-governmental actors in this area is needed.

With the 16th anniversary of 9/11 just around the corner, and growing realization that we won’t be able to kill or arrest our away out of the problem, President Obama can mark the occasion by calling for the creation of a non-government-led “National Prevention Network” to harness the efforts of the growing number of communities and professionals around the country interested in helping to prevent the violent radicalization of individuals in their communities.

Such a network could help to mobilize resources by leveraging corporate and philanthropic contributions to support local prevention and intervention projects and involve non-law enforcement professionals around the country with experience working on CVE or related fields (e.g., drug or broader crime prevention, mental health). It could allow communities to more easily draw on the expertise from the growing number of its members and professionals (both in the United States and overseas) that need to be involved in designing and implementing “social service” prevention and intervention efforts as they move to develop their own programs, tailored to the needs of their citizens. It could help ensure that communities that don’t feel compelled to develop a full-fledged CVE program, but are interested in getting much smarter about the problem and how they can identify early signs of radicalization and steer their young people away from violence the opportunity to do so, without having to involve the “feds.” Such a network would energize professional associations of educators, community development workers, mental health and social services organizations, which have generally been reluctant to actively engage in Washington-driven CVE efforts, and create scalable partnerships with a philanthropic sector that has also been leery of involving itself in efforts that have been so closely associated with the FBI and other security actors.

A National Prevention Network will help ensure that the community-led approach to CVE that was the centerpiece of last year’s White House CVE Summit becomes a reality and is not dependent on who is in the White House or, more broadly, Washington. Although not a panacea, the network, which could draw on lessons from networks developed in other fields (e.g., human trafficking, drug addiction, and child trauma) will not only help communities in the United States, but serve as an example for other countries to follow as they look beyond the military advances in Syria and Iraq and build a “whole of society” effort to prevent terrorism.

      

 

 

Meanwhile, under the stewardship of Donald Trump, the Republican Party appears to be morphing into a European-style ethnonationalist party. In a two-party system, this can’t help but affect the Democrats’ own message, since each party comes to define itself, and even understand itself better, in opposition to the other.

As powerful as that first night of the DNC was, especially as a member of one of the minorities Trump has so often sought to attack, I couldn’t help but wonder. It was a bit dispiriting to see, in such visual form, that there really are two Americas. The message of the Republican National Convention seemed like it was being beamed in from a different country, at least if your point of reference was growing up in Washington or New York City. It was a dystopian vision of a declining America that was no longer itself.

But I could also imagine would-be Trump supporters in “real America” watching the proceedings at the DNC and feeling detached, as if they were watching a country that had moved well beyond them. Here were Democratic politicians, elites and delegates, celebrating diversity in all of its colors and persuasions. I can imagine the emphasis on inclusion seeming, to some, self-satisfied, even condescending, as if we were reminding “angry whites” that they were somehow deficient, and that the responsibility to change their lot was only theirs, and not ours.

In my own work in the Middle East, my starting assumption as a researcher has been to suspend my own ideological preferences and to immerse myself in the world of people I don’t agree with and wouldn’t want to live under (namely Islamist movements). I don’t think we do nearly enough of that in our own country.

In some sense, it’s almost too obvious. The Democratic National Convention, with its joyous inclusion, is not what America looks like in the more rural expanses of Virginia, where, by chance, I happen to be writing this very piece. One of the towns I passed through, Elkton, Virginia (population 2,762), already seemed like something out of a post-apocalyptic serial, with deserted streets, shuttered general stores, and nothing seemingly happening.

Having lived the majority of my adult life abroad, I used to joke with my fellow American expats that I probably knew other countries better than I knew my own. Liberals often complain about rural and working class voters voting against their economic interests.

But for a resident of Elkton, I can understand it in reverse. Why wouldn’t they vote for Donald Trump? Hillary Clinton is not promising a break with the past eight years, but a continuation of it. That is part of her appeal – building on and extending Obama’s legacy, at least on domestic policy. But if your experience of the past eight years has been one of economic, social and moral stagnation, or worse, then why would you want something resembling the status quo? I can imagine an Elkton resident watching the Democratic National Convention and not seeing, or hearing, themselves represented. For them, it might as well have been a different country.

The risk is that as whites become a smaller majority – and eventually an outright minority – the tendencies toward ethnic politics we’ve witnessed in this election season might very well intensify. The specifics of Hillary Clinton’s policies are almost beside the point. Most Democrats and Democratic-leaning voters will cast their vote for Hillary because it is part of their identity. Liberals and Democrats are not really part of a party, as much as they are part of a new America that looks and thinks differently and has little interest in looking back, wherever that might be. More than a party, it is a lifestyle, a culture and a sensibility, with its own media, institutions, norms and values.

It’s striking that, as Americans sort themselves into various identities, how little Christianity has seemed to factor in, compared to more traditional kinds of ethnic and nationalist markers. These are perhaps our “first real intimations of what a genuinely post-Christian politics might look like,” as Ross Douthat recently put it.

From a secular standpoint, this might seem like a good thing in theory, but it’s a bit more complicated in practice. As I discuss in my new book, all states require some unifying set of norms and ideas to bind citizens together (the 14th century historian Ibn Khaldun had a great word for it, asabiyah, which roughly translates as ‘social solidarity’ or ‘group consciousness’). A unifying nationalism is out, since our conceptions of America have apparently become so different. A “moderate Christianity” seems to be out, at least for the time being. Which doesn’t leave us with much.

Usually, when I write articles, I try to find a way to end on a positive note. In this case, it’s difficult. Again, I find myself returning to the kind of cross-party civic communitarianism that I sketched out in my previous column. The communitarian instinct is difficult to plot on a traditional left-right spectrum. Some saw communitarian themes in Sen. Cory Booker’s convention address, including his call for a “nation of interdependence” and for a civic virtue of love over tolerance.

I, however, would more than happily take tolerance right now. We can barely do that much as it is, and perhaps for good reason: quite a lot is at stake. This is perhaps the first election, at least in my lifetime, that sees us, as a country, moving beyond left and right, toward something more inchoate but probably more frightening. But whether these divides deepen or retreat will depend on who wins in November and, perhaps just as important, how the losers of the election take their loss.

      

 

 

Dividing lines

Telhami and colleague William Galston, Brookings’ Ezra K. Zilkha Chair in Governance Studies, discussed the poll and its conclusions at an event earlier this month moderated by Tamara Cofman Wittes, director of the Center for Middle East Policy at Brookings. Galston noted that that the cleavages between Clinton supporters and Trump supporters on issues related to Islam suggested by Telhami’s polls are remarkable even when compared to hot-button domestic issues in the United States.

When asked if they hold a favorable attitude towards Islam, for instance, there is a 40-point gap between Republicans and Democrats in general (24 percent of Republicans and 64 percent of Democrats). But the gap widens to 50 points between Clinton supporters (66 percent have a favorable view) and Trump supporters (16 percent), specifically.

Similar divides manifested on questions about the compatibility of the Islamic and Western religions and societies, with 13 percent of Clinton supporters believing in a so-called clash of civilizations and 62 percent of Trump supporters believing it. That is a 41-point gap.

And on the U.S. role in mediating between the Israelis and Palestinians, 55 percent of Trump supporters thought that the United States should lean toward Israel, while only 5 percent of Clinton supporters thought so. Again, that’s a 50-point difference between supporters of the main presidential contenders.

In Galston’s words: “[I]t’s polarization on steroids.”

In Galston’s words: “all this is to suggest that the election that we [are] actually going to have represents a greater degree of polarization between the two candidates and their supporters—if such a thing were imaginable—than even between the political parties that they represent. So it’s polarization on steroids.” Since whoever wins the presidential election will be expected to represent all Americans, these kinds of cleavages will complicate governing down the road.

Galston commented that “it would be wonderful if we were moving back toward an era in which political differences ended at the water’s edge …[However,] those days are gone and this survey I think puts a fine point on that.”

Wittes noted that in the contemporary media environment, “people are living in informational bubbles where their preexisting views are reinforced…of course, we are in a campaign season right now so all of those narratives are magnified.” She questioned whether “it’s the campaign that’s driving this polarization more than the polarization driving the candidates?” Telhami explained that views are shaped by voting preferences, but also by the demographic shifts in the population and the greater exposure of Americans to Islam and related issues in recent years.

Views on Islam evolving?

What do the polls show about how the Orlando shooting affected Americans’ attitudes overall on Muslims and Islam? When polled after the Orlando shooting, a strong majority of respondents (62 percent) expressed a favorable view of Muslims. Contrast that with 58 percent of respondents who said that in the weeks before the attacks, and only 53 percent who shared the view in November 2015, according to another of Telhami’s polls.

This finding seems perplexing on its face, since one might expect that prominent anti-Muslim rhetoric in the wake of the shooting might have swayed Americans towards more negative opinions. As Telhami has suggested, this poll may be an indication that Americans are pushing back against that rhetoric.

In any case, polarization among Americans—on these and a range of other issues—isn’t likely to dissipate any time soon. It will remain essential to understand why people hold the views that they do, since the next president will face the daunting task of trying to rally voters from both ends of the American political spectrum behind his or her agenda.

      

 

 

Nearly five years after its formation, Jabhat al-Nusra has demonstrated the potential value of its “long game” approach. By adopting a strategy of gradualism, it has socialized populations into first accepting, and then supporting and defending, this al-Qaida-like movement. Jabhat al-Nusra aims to epitomize the realization of al-Qaida’s evolved thinking. It seeks to build localized bases of influence by embedding itself in within popular revolutionary dynamics and, eventually, establish zones of territorial control from which it can launch attacks against the Western world. By establishing a durable presence in Syria and potentially considering separating itself from al-Qaida internationally, Jabhat al-Nusra seeks to realize its long-term vision of establishing Islamic Emirates inside Syria, as components of a future Caliphate.

Jabhat al-Nusra has successfully prepared its surroundings in such a way as to give it an improved chance of surviving in the long-term, despite international counterterrorism efforts. The international community must work to de-escalate the situation in Syria and more forcefully push for a diplomatic settlement so as to prevent the establishment of a longstanding jihadi safe haven. Policy decisions, including expanding support to Syria’s mainstream opposition, encouraging opposition-Kurdish dialogue, and interrupting al-Qaida’s finances, can diminish Jabhat al-Nusra’s chances of survival.

      

 

 

Lesser evil?

Revkin writes that “the Islamic State has attempted to ingratiate itself with civilians by claiming that its legal system is comparatively more legitimate and effective than the available alternatives.” The Syrian and Iraqi governments, Revkin explains, are often perceived as being highly corrupt and ineffective. The Islamic State is able to gain civilians’ favor by arguing that its political and legal institutions are more legitimate than those of the Syrian and Iraqi governments or rival armed groups. She adds: “some Syrians and Iraqis seem to prefer the legal system of the Islamic State to the available alternatives not because they agree with its ideology, but simply because they regard it as the lesser evil.” 

The Syrian and Iraqi governments…are often perceived as being highly corrupt and ineffective.

Revkin writes that for the Islamic State, shariah law is “the only legitimate basis for governance.” In cases where shariah fails to address modern-day problems, she explains, religiously legitimate authorities appointed by the Islamic State—such as military commanders, police officers, and the caliph himself—can issue legal decisions as long as they do not conflict with the divine rules of shariah or harm the welfare of the greater Muslim community. Alongside this is a system of rules and regulations to “govern civilians, discipline its own officials and combatants, and control territory” in areas of rights and duties, behavior, property, trade, and warfare. 

Making the state possible

Legal institutions help the Islamic State advance three main state-building objectives, in Revkin’s view: 

1. First, they support the Islamic State’s territorial expansion by “legitimizing [its] claims to sovereignty, justifying the expropriation of the property and land of enemies, and building goodwill with civilians.” 
2. Legal institutions also allow the Islamic State to enforce compliance and accountability of its own members and maintain internal control and discipline. Revkin describes various types of punishments the Islamic State uses to discipline its own members—these punishments are important, she writes, because “no government can establish itself as legitimate and sovereign without policing the behavior of the people who are responsible for implementing its policies.”
3. Finally, Revkin explores the legal institutions surrounding the Islamic State’s tax policies, which are “critical to financing the Islamic State’s governance and military operations.” Courts and judges, she explains, are crucial to “administering and legitimizing” taxation and justifying “economic activities that might otherwise resemble theft.” 

Weaknesses in the system

Although the Islamic State claims to have legitimate governing authority, based on a defined legal system, that system faces vulnerabilities. Revkin writes, for instance, that reports of corruption and extra-legal violence are “threatening the organization’s long-term sustainability and undermining its ability to win the trust and cooperation of civilians.”

Amid recent signs that the group is losing strength, Revkin argues that it’s struggling to maintain its own moral standards. To further weaken the Islamic State, she recommends working to undermine those institutions. The trouble is, as Revkin points out: “the Islamic State came to power largely by exploiting the weakness and illegitimacy of existing institutions” in Iraq and Syria. Thus, a sustainable plan for ultimately destroying the organization must also involve strengthening political and legal institutions in those countries. 

       

 

 

What does it mean to say that the Republican Party is on the “right”? The GOP, long defined (at least in theory) by its faith in an unbridled free market, the politics of personal responsibility, and a sort of Christian traditionalism, is no longer easily plotted on the traditional left-right spectrum of American politics. Under the stewardship of presidential nominee Donald Trump, the Republican Party appears to be morphing into a European-style ethnonationalist party. With Trump’s open disrespect for minority rights and the Bill of Rights, the GOP can no longer be considered classically “liberal” (not to be confused with capital-L American Liberalism). This is a new kind of party, an explicitly illiberal party.

These developments, of course, further constrain Republicans’ appeal to minority voters (I haven’t yet met an American Muslim willing to admit they’re voting for Trump, but they apparently exist). This makes it all the more important to distinguish between conservative values and those of this latest iteration of the Republican Party.

There are some aspects of Burkean conservative thought – including aspects of what might be called civic communitarianism – that could plausibly strike a chord in the current cultural landscape across “left” and “right,” categories which, in any case, are no longer as clearly distinguishable as they once were. (Take, for example, British Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn’s Euroskepticism and that of his opponents on the right, or the populist anti-elitism and trade protectionism that are now the province of both Republicans and Democrats).

Everyone seems angry or distrustful of government institutions, which, even when they provide much needed redistributive fiscal stimulus and services, are still blamed for being incompetent, inefficient, or otherwise encouraging a kind of undignified dependency. After the Brexit debacle, it seemed odd that some of the most Europhobic parts of Britain were the very ones that benefited most from EU subsidies. But this assumes that people are fundamentally motivated by material considerations and that they vote – or should vote – according to their economic interests.

If there’s one thing that the rise of Trump and Brexit – and the apparent scrambling of left-right divides – demonstrates, it’s that other things may matter more, and that it’s not a matter of people being too stupid to realize what’s good for them. As Will Davies put it in one of the more astute post-Brexit essays, what many Brexiteers craved was “the dignity of being self-sufficient, not necessarily in a neoliberal sense, but certainly in a communal, familial and fraternal sense.”

The communitarian instinct – the recognition that meaning ultimately comes from local communities rather than happiness-maximizing individuals or bloated nanny-states – transcends the Republican-Democratic or the Labour-Conservative chasm. In other words, an avowedly redistributive state is fine, at least from the standpoint of the left, but that shouldn’t mean neglecting the importance of local control and autonomy, and finding ways, perhaps through federal incentives, to encourage things like “local investment trusts.”

Setting up local investment trusts, expanding the child tax credit, or introducing a progressive consumption tax aren’t exactly a call-to-arms, and various traditionalist and communitarian-minded philosophers have, as might be expected from philosophers, tended to stay at the level of abstraction (authors armed with more policy proposals are more likely to be young conservative reformers like Ross Douthat, Reihan Salam, and Yuval Levin). Douthat and Salam want to use wide-ranging tax reform to alter incentives in the hope of strengthening families and communities. This is a worthy goal, but realizing such policies requires leadership on the federal level from the very legislators who we should presumably become less dependent on.

This is the reformer’s dilemma, regardless of whether you’re on the left or right. If your objective is to weaken a centralized, overbearing state and encourage mediating or “middle” institutions, then you first need recourse to that same overbearing state, otherwise the proposed changes are unlikely to have any significant impact on the aggregate, national level.

The fact that few people seem interested in talking about any of this in our national debate (we instead seem endlessly intrigued by Melania Trump’s copy-and-paste speechwriting) suggests that we’re likely to be stuck for some time to come. Incidentally, however, the Hillary Clinton campaign slogan of “Stronger Together” has an interesting communitarian tinge to it. I doubt that was the intent, and it’s only in writing this column that I even took a minute to think about what the slogan might actually mean. I, as it happens, have been much more interested in talking about – and worrying about – an unusually fascinating and frightening man named Donald Trump.