Author: Praveen Swami
Publication: The Hindu
Date: December 28, 2007
URL: http://www.hinduonnet.com/2007/12/28/stories/2007122853881000.htm
As radical Islam gathers momentum in western
Europe, concerns grow in east and central Europe.
Below the crucifix in the magnificent church
that presides over the main square of Pecs runs an Arabic inscription extolling
another god. When the Ottoman rule collapsed in Hungary, a tourist brochure
unselfconsciously asserts, what was once a mosque "matured into a Catholic
church."
For some, the Arabic-inscribed crucifix is a
discomfiting signifier. Hungary is preparing to send troops to Afghanistan to
serve alongside its North Atlantic Treaty Organisation partners. Poland, Bulgaria
and Romania, for their part, have committed troops to Iraq.
Some argue this could lead central and eastern
Europe into conflict with its Muslim populations, and drag the region into a
larger war against Islamists. Islamists have often laid claim to the swathe
of lands running from Indonesia to Spain which were once ruled by Muslim leaders
- and central European states are well aware they lie in this arc.
How well founded are such fears? And just how
likely is it that central Europe could become the next battlefield for Islamists?
Just a decade ago, the fallout from the anti-Muslim carnage in Bosnia made it
appear probable that central Europe would emerge as a site for the clash of
civilisations both Islamic and Christian neoconservatives have long worked to
bring about. Desperate to defend his people during the most murderous conflict
Europe has seen since the Second World War, Bosnia's President, Alija Izetbegovic,
opened his country's doors to mujahideen from across the world. Hundreds of
Taliban and Al Qaeda-trained cadre from Afghanistan and West Asia fought alongside
Bosnian forces against what was seen as a crusade for the extermination of Islam.
So too did many young people from western Europe,
as we are informed by Ed Husain's The Islamist, an autobiographical account
of life as an organiser for the United Kingdom's Hizb ut-Tahrir. Among them
was Syed Omar Sheikh, a London School of Economics dropout-turned-terrorist
who was released from an Indian jail in return for the lives of the hostages
on board Indian Airlines flight IC 814. Indeed, the war in Bosnia had a truly
global impact. Sheikh's mentor now - Jaish-e-Mohammad chief Maulana Masood Azhar
- is believed to have helped raise funds for the jihad in Bosnia. Kafeel Ahmad,
the Bangalore-trained engineer who attempted to blow up the Glasgow airport
earlier this year, was radicalised by viewing tapes of the carnage.
But a decade on, the spectre of post-communist
Europe dissolving into a battlefield between Islam and Christianity appears
somewhat surreal. Instead, the real conflict is unfolding in western Europe
- in France, for example, where Islamist-led youth are battling police, or the
U.K., where second and third generation immigrants have been involved in a string
of terror plots. But central Europe holds out instructive lessons for the future,
which merit close attention.
From the early 1990s, several West Asian charities
and proselytising organisations began operations in central and eastern Europe.
Most, though not all, were funded by Saudi Arabia. They focussed on setting
up new mosques and encouraging the adoption of Salafi neoconservative practices.
Among the organisations which acquired a large-scale presence were the World
Association of Muslim Youth, the al-Haramein Foundation and the Islamic International
Relief Organisation.
As events spiralled out of control in Bosnia
- and as Christian Europe stood by and watched the carnage - the Islamist case
acquired moral momentum. WAMY, which also had close links with the now-proscribed
Students Islamic Movement of India, was represented in central and eastern Europe
by Elfatih Ali Hassnein. An old friend of Izetbegovic, Hassnein helped facilitate
illegal weapons transfers to Bosnia, breaking a United Nations arms embargo
of dubious ethical legitimacy.
Many of the mujahideen who fought in Bosnia
married local women, and stayed on, forming the core of what some experts feared
would be an Islamist state-within-a-state. Soon, though, the mujahideen's involvement
with car bombings, hostage-taking and armed robbery compelled their wholesale
expulsion. In the wake of the terror strikes of September 11, 2001, Bosnia cooperated
with the worldwide crackdown on the Al Qaeda. Six Algerians, for example, were
deported from Sarajevo to Guantanamo Bay.
Such action was facilitated by the fact that
Salafi missionary efforts had little social impact. While religion became a
marker of political identity during the Bosnian conflict, it did not transform
society. Most Bosnians remained secular in matters of personal life, and proved
hostile to the Islamist vision of social freedoms and women's rights.
Yet Islamists continue to have a significant
presence in Bosnia. Among the leading organisations is the Aktivna Islamska
Omladina (Active Islamic Youth: AIY), which is reputed to have up to 2,000 members.
Drawing on the bitter memories of the war, and the veneration of the mujahideen
by some young Bosnians, the AIY propagates an aggressive Salafism that sits
ill with the more liberal Hanafi traditions supported by most of the country.
Its appeal has, moreover, been undercut by the mainstream religious leadership
of Mustafa Ceric, a Chicago-educated cleric who has worked towards building
a modus vivendi with secular-left parties, as well as women's groups.
Islamists have registered even more marked failures
elsewhere in the region. While Islamist groups have attempted to reach out to
Muslim communities in Croatia, Slovenia and Serbia, their impact has been limited.
Sarajevo-based radical clerics Salejman Bugari and Nezim Halilovic Muderis have
drawn audiences in the city of Novipazar, where West Asian funds have also enabled
the construction of an Islamic University. But the neoconservative Salafism
promoted by Islamists has had little impact on the community's political and
religious leadership.
In impoverished Albania, the Islamist failure
has been just as marked. The country's Sunni spiritual leadership, led by Selim
Muca's Islamic Community, has been divided between pro-West liberals and neoconservatives.
While generous West Asian aid has strengthened Salafi neoconservatives, and
fuelled an instrumentalisation of Islam in the country's political life, it
has failed to bring about a social shift to the right. Since 1997, the pro-United
States administration in Albania has come down hard on Islamists, further retarding
their prospects for growth.
Bulgaria's one million strong Muslim population,
mostly of ethnic Turkish origin, has also remained resistant to Islamist seduction.
Although his institutions are extensively funded by West Asian charities, Grand
Mufti Selim Mehmed has often declared that he does not want Islam in the country
"to have an alien shape."
However, Bulgaria's involvement in the U.S.'
war in Iraq has led to red warning flags emerging in recent years. Bulgarian
authorities were threatened by the Al Qaeda several times after the invasion
of Iraq, and in 2003, Islamic centres in Venlingrad and Pazardzhik were closed
down amidst allegations that they were being used by terror groups to recruit
among the estimated 20,000 Arabs living in the country. Former Grand Mufti Nedeem
Gendzhev has in recent years warned of the threat posed by the recruitment of
Bulgarian students studying in West Asia, and those linked to Saudi Arabia-based
charities like al-Waqf.
Romania, like Bulgaria, is facing concerns over
the infiltration of its Arab immigrant community by West Asia-based Islamists.
In October 2004, authorities held West Asian associates of controversial businessman
Genica Boerica on money-laundering charges. Again, in February, 2005, West Asians
linked to the Terom conglomerate were held on suspicion of making terrorism-linked
funds transfers. WAMY is thought to fund several Islamist charities in the country,
like the Islamic Cultural League, the al-Salaam Association, and the Taiba Foundation.
However, Romania's 70,000 ethnic Turk and Tartar Muslims have for the most part
ignored their efforts to promote Salafi neo-conservatism.
Hungary has also seen some low-grade Islamist
mobilisation. In March 2004, authorities held Palestinian-born immigrant Tayseer
Saleh on charges of plotting to bomb a Jewish museum in Budapest. The head of
the ultra-right Dar as-Salaam mosque, Saleh was later released. Mosques like
Saleh's, though, cater to only a small section of Muslims in Hungary. For the
most part, Zoltan Bolek's liberal Hungarian Islamic Community, and Zoltan Sulok's
more orthodox Church of the Muslims of Hungary, dominate the ideological debate.
Just why has the Islamist project failed in
central and eastern Europe, despite expectations that the post-socialist states
would see a large-scale revival of religion? For one, the secularisation of
religious communities during the socialist period has proved more durable than
most expected. A 1990 survey showed that the Muslims of Bosnia and Herzegovina
were even more secular than the Yugoslav average. Marriage across religious
lines is common through the region, and observance in matters of ritual at best
casual. Most important, neoconservative Salafism has run up against a brick
wall in the form of popular attitudes to women's rights and social freedoms.
Does this mean there is no cause for worry?
In a thoughtful essay, analyst Georgy Lederer pointed out that it can be "risky
to neglect certain countries or parts of the world for their assumed low affectedness
by transnational radical networks." He noted that "terror-related
costs in the future will probably be much higher than those of today's preventive
measures which should follow, discreetly, the paths of Mid-East funded religious
indoctrination." However, Lederer added "this kind of attention requires
international vision and much more professionalism than" is today available.
In much of the world, the struggle against terrorism
has in practice meant the unleashing of Islamophobia and the full coercive capabilities
of nation-states. In central and eastern Europe, though, there is still time
to get it right.