OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
Don’t Fear All Islamists, Fear Salafis
By ROBIN WRIGHT
Published: August
19, 2012
THIS spring, I traveled to the cradle of the Arab uprisings
— a forlorn street corner in Sidi
Bouzid , Tunisia, where a street
vendor, drenched in paint thinner, struck a match in December 2010 that
ignited the entire Middle East . “We have far
more freedoms,” one peddler hawking fruit in the same square lamented, “but
far fewer jobs.”
Another noted that Mohamed Bouazizi, the vendor
who set himself on fire, did so not to vote in a democratic election but
because harassment by local officials had cost him his livelihood.
As the peddlers vented, prayers ended at the whitewashed
mosque across the street. Among the faithful were Salafis, ultraconservative
Sunni Muslims vying to define the new order according to seventh-century
religious traditions rather than earthly realities.
For years, many Salafis — “salaf” means predecessors — had
avoided politics and embraced autocrats as long as they were Muslims. But over
the past eight months, clusters of worshipers across the Middle
East have morphed into powerful Salafi movements that are tapping
into the disillusionment and disorder of transitions.
A new Salafi
Crescent , radiating from the Persian
Gulf sheikdoms into the Levant
and North Africa , is one of the most
underappreciated and disturbing byproducts of the Arab revolts. In varying
degrees, these populist puritans are moving into the political space once
occupied by jihadi militants, who are now less in vogue. Both are
fundamentalists who favor a new order modeled on early Islam. Salafis are not
necessarily fighters, however. Many disavow violence.
In Tunisia ,
Salafis started the Reform Front party in May and led protests, including in
Sidi Bouzid. This summer, they’ve repeatedly attacked symbols of the new
freedom of speech, ransacking an art gallery and blocking Sufi musicians and
political comedians from performing. In Egypt, Salafis emerged last
year from obscurity, hastily formed parties, and in January won 25 percent of
the seats in parliament — second only to the 84-year-old Muslim Brotherhood.
Salafis are a growing influence in Syria’s rebellion. And they
have parties or factions in Algeria, Bahrain, Kuwait, Libya, Yemen and among Palestinians.
Salafis are only one slice of a rapidly evolving Islamist
spectrum. The variety of Islamists in the early 21st century recalls
socialism’s many shades in the 20th. Now, as then, some Islamists are more
hazardous to Western interests and values than others. The Salafis are most
averse to minority and women’s rights.
A common denominator among disparate Salafi groups is
inspiration and support from Wahhabis, a puritanical strain of Sunni Islam from
Saudi Arabia .
Not all Saudis are Wahhabis. Not all Salafis are Wahhabis, either. But Wahhabis
are basically all Salafis. And many Arabs, particularly outside the sparsely
populated Gulf, suspect that Wahhabis are trying to seize the future by aiding
and abetting the region’s newly politicized Salafis — as they did 30 years ago
by funding the South Asian madrassas that produced Afghanistan ’s Taliban.
Salafis go much further in restricting political and
personal life than the larger and more modern Islamist parties that have won
electoral pluralities in Egypt ,
Tunisia
and Morocco
since October. For most Arabs, the rallying cry is justice, both economic and
political. For Salafis, it is also about a virtue that is inflexible and
enforceable.
“You have two choices: heaven or hellfire,” Sheikh Muhammad
el-Kurdi instructed me after his election to Egypt ’s parliament as a member of
Al Nour, a Salafi party. It favors gender segregation in schools and offices,
he told me, so that men can concentrate. “It’s O.K. for you to be in the room,”
he explained. “You are our guest, and we know why you’re here. But you are one
woman and we are three men — and we all want to marry you.” Marriage may have
been a euphemism.
Other more modern Islamists fear the Salafi factor. “The
Salafis try to push us,” said Rachid al-Ghannouchi, founder of Ennahda, the
ruling Islamist party in Tunisia .
The two Islamist groups there are now rivals. “Salafis are against drafting a
constitution. They think it is the Koran,” grumbled Merhézia Labidi, the vice
chairwoman of Tunisia ’s
Constituent Assembly and a member of Ennahda.
Salafis are deepening the divide between Sunni and Shiite
Muslims and challenging the “Shiite
Crescent ,” a term coined by Jordan’s King Abdullah in
2004, during the Iraq
war, to describe an arc of influence from Shiite-dominated Iran to its
allies in Iraq ,
Syria
and Lebanon .
Today, these rival crescents risk turning countries in transition into
battlefields over the region’s future.
The Salafis represent a painful long-term conundrum for the
West. Their goals are the most anti-Western of any Islamist parties. They are
trying to push both secularists and other Islamists into the not-always-virtuous
past.
American policy recently had its own awakening after 60
years of support for autocratic rulers. The United States opted to embrace
people power and electoral change in Tunisia , Egypt , Libya , Morocco and Yemen . Yet Washington still
embraces authoritarian Gulf monarchies like Saudi Arabia , tolerating their
vague promises of reform and even pledging the United States ’ might to protect
them.
Foreign policy should be nuanced, whether because of oil
needs or to counter threats from Iran . But there is something
dreadfully wrong with tying America ’s
future position in the region to the birthplace and bastion of Salafism and its
warped vision of a new order.
Robin
Wright, the author of “Rock the Casbah: Rage and Rebellion Across the
Islamic World,” is a fellow at the United States Institute of Peace and the Woodrow Wilson International
Center for Scholars.
No comments:
Post a Comment