The mutation of jihad

New Statesman​

5 hours ago

Photo by Wakil Kohsar/AFP
We fear the wrong terror. This week marked the 20th anniversary of the 7/7 bombings. But the spectacular terror of international jihad has significantly abated. In 2022, the UK downgraded its terrorism threat level from 'severe' to 'substantial', and MI5 director Ken McCallum observed in 2024 that terrorist threats had diminished during his time at the service. Attacks claimed by Islamic State group (IS) have fallen from almost 4,000 in 2018 to around 600 so far this year. And they are less likely to be of immediate concern to Western countries. Almost 90% of the group's violence now takes place in remote parts of Africa.
A report published this week highlighted a newer danger: hostile governments are equipping themselves to execute professional attacks on British soil. The study by Parliament's Intelligence and Security Committee, which Keir Starmer saw before publication, investigated Iran. It counted at least 15 attempted murders or abductions of British nationals or UK-based citizens since 2022, and designated the Iran one of the biggest threats to the UK, next to Russia and China.
But it should not be news that the threat of state-sponsored, professional killings has been increasing in recent years should not be news. In 2024, MI5 admitted a 48 per cent rise in state-instigated assassination attempts on UK soil. But the only such incident to gain real cut-through was the poisoning of Sergei and Yulia Skripal in 2018.
Jihad is changing its face. In recent years, jihadist and Islamist groups that have embraced more pragmatic, local agendas have tended to flourish. Meanwhile, supporters of more extreme jihadist ideologies – groups like IS and al-Qaeda which once posed significant threats to the West – are foundering.
In 2001, al-Qaeda executed the grandest and most famous assault the West had ever seen on its own land. The 2017 attacks on Westminster Bridge and London Bridge represented a transition to less complicated methods, such as stabbings and driving vans into crowds. IS was encouraging followers to use whatever equipment they can get their hands on. Now, commenters on GeoNews, the main al-Qaeda chat room, are wont to take a despairing tone; in late April this year, one commenter reflected 'Jihadism goes nowhere, it didn't achieve anything… it's like digging in water… The best that can happen is like [what happened in] Syria'.
Since the December 2024 overthrow of the al-Assad government, Syria has been ruled by Ahmed al-Sharaa, better known by his military name Abu Mohammed al-Jolani. Al-Sharaa's regime has dismayed Islamist hardliners by distancing itself from typical jihadist and Islamist demands, such as rigorous application of Sharia law. Instead it has loudly touted its respect for religious minorities, with a programme more reminiscent of the Ottoman Empire's 'millet' ('personal law') decentralisations, which gave religious communities a degree of local autonomy. Al-Sharaa has even shaken the investment tin to the US and other Western powers. And, perhaps most controversially, his government is signalling openness to normalising ties with Israel, its arch-foe.
Unburdened of US sanctions, Syria's economy is expected to begin the slow path to recovery. Al-Sharaa has generally prioritised winning international credibility as a competent and pragmatic leader over governing by strict Islamic principles. He has proposed plans to privatise state-controlled infrastructure and made overtures to foreign investors. Government officials have stated intentions to model Syria's future on service-based economies like Singapore. It is a surprising posture. Historian Djene Rhys Bajalan has coined the term 'Salafi Neoliberalism' to describe the strange new synthesis of 'malls and mosques'. Other media outlets have described it as 'Islamist technocracy', pointing to the equal centrality of technocratic institutions and conservative social mores.
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Before Syria, there was Afghanistan. Despite being spurned by the international community for its deeply regressive social policies, hardcore jihadists had condemned the Taliban's rule in Afghanistan after its 2021 takeover as too lax. IS's local wing and its affiliated media regularly scorn the Taliban, holding that the group has abandoned jihad, failed to implement Sharia and allied itself with enemy foreign powers. Accepting national borders and engaging in diplomacy is considered anathema to IS's vision of global jihad. Taken as evidence of ideological compromise was the Taliban's removal from Russia's list of terrorist organisations. And this week, on 9 July, Afghanistan posted an extraordinary tourism advert online, which opens with a shot of five turbaned men behind three kneeling hostages. The leader says 'we have one message for America', then pulls off the hood of the central hostage, revealing a beaming Westerner who shouts, 'Welcome to Afghanistan!' Of course, all sorts of propaganda will be used in service of attracting tourism; but this is nonetheless a sea change from the autarkic Taliban regime of the 1990s.
Affiliates of al-Qaeda now appear poised to make a definitive break with the transnational jihadist model most infamously espoused by Islamic State (IS). Al-Qaeda affiliates in Yemen (AQAP) and Somalia (Al-Shabaab) have showed signs of being willing to collaborate with the Iran-backed Houthis, traditionally an ideological foe. In Yemen in April, a former al-Qaeda member rebranded innocuously as the Movement for Change and Liberation, a new, locally focused party. The affiliate in West Africa's Sahel region, JNIM, is perhaps the most likely to split from al-Qaeda's central structure next: media branding changes, such as the removal of JNIM's logo, suggest a split from the wider North African branch, AQIM.
In February, one al-Qaeda supporter wondered in the GeoNews chatroom why 'JNIM want to separate from [al-Qaeda]?… It's sad'. JNIM's drift away from al-Qaeda may allow it to more openly collaborate with other non-jihadist militant groups such as Tuareg separatists. JNIM has also reportedly signalled willingness to combine forces with non-jihadist armed groups in the Sahel, such as the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA), against common enemies in the region (predominantly the governments of Mali and Burkina Faso). Burkina Faso's military junta plainly considers the Taliban and JNIM entirely separate entities, meeting with the former in May while engaged in a bloody war with the latter.
What is left of IS itself has blamed the West for the move away from jihadism and toward more palatable alternatives in order to undermine them and lure Muslims from the 'true' path. One high-profile IS supporter posted on Facebook, '[the US] gave Afghanistan to Taliban… and Syria to [al-Sharaa's] HTS which converted to secularism'. Devoted IS supporters see more pragmatic Islamist movements like HTS as enforcers of the West's war on terrorism who are beholden to Western interests, rather than being committed to applying Shariah by the letter.
Al-Naba, IS's weekly newspaper, has recently struck a downbeat tone. An early July editorial worried about low morale and a wavering commitment to global jihad. Several other recent editorials have all but admitted that the group is on the backfoot, especially in its Middle Eastern heartlands, where its attacks have dropped significantly in recent years.
Transnational jihadism – an ideology that has demonstrated remarkable tenacity throughout the first quarter of the 21st century – may be about to turn a corner. As US power retreats, those who might have been attracted to confronting American imperialism are concerned by other questions. International terrorist imperatives are being subordinated to domestic, material issues. At least for now, the success of the local appears to be global jihadism's loss.
[See also: Netanyahu bends the knee for Trump]
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