The title caught me off-guard. I thought it was a Dummy’s Guide to Jihad kind of deal, written by none other than ’shaykh’ Usama bin Laden himself. But cursory leafing soon banished that fancy. Little did I expect that with it would go all my pompous impressions on al-Qaeda.
The book is roughly divided into two parts. In the first, Gray firmly refutes the popular notion that al-Qaeda, with its turbaned and bearded ambassadors, is a throwback to medieval times. The title’s meaning rapidly becomes clear. He asserts that militant groups are run along similar lines as virtual business conglomerates and even the mafia, taking advantage of globalization’s sacred precepts; open borders and a free market that permits virtually unlimited movement of cash and capital.
Incidentally, both tenets form the backbone of any aid that the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank offer developing countries, with dramatic and often chaotic outcomes on already-impoverished economies. Africa, Argentina and Indonesia are cited as perfect examples of the short-circuits that IMF policies introduce. Poverty builds up, thus fueling a population’s disillusionment with ‘the system’. Such grounds are a perfect source of what Gray disarmingly calls “suicide warriors”. It is these grievances that al-Qaeda successfully drafts into its ever-growing list of Western Sins.
The book persuaded me that radicalism, and a general shift of political parties to the right, is the certain result of modernity’s march under the shadow of globalization and capitalism. My view is strengthened by the fact that all across Europe, right-leaning politicians have garnered increased influence and power. Even traditionally left-centric governments like Blair’s Labor is changing its flavor to a more conservative and trade-protectionist stance.
Because the book is so slim, it is inevitable that Gray’s second, more philosophical portion comes somewhat as a rude shock. Tread warily, for this section assumes two things: that you are familiar with western current affairs, and possess a basic understanding of Enlightenment ideas.
Gray convincingly traces the deep impression that Positivism- a 19th-century intellectual movement- left on modern concepts like socialism, democracy and even the IMF’s frighteningly blinkered manifesto. The belief that as societies come to be based on science, they are bound to become alike finds comfortable resonance in the American mythos that democracy, with all its traps and pitfalls, is the natural destination of every man. Because of this, al-Qaeda is mistakenly viewed as a relic of the past. Positivism’s inherent narcissism is the main stumbling block to properly defining the ‘war on terror’.
The author’s brief but insightful study of the late Sayid Qutb- Usama’s ideological muse- is rooted in the premise that his writings were greatly influenced by European anarchism. Like Karl Marx, Qutb’s writings are crammed with horror of the West. This straw man (largely erroneous) becomes the staging point for his idea of a revolutionary vanguard dedicated to bringing into existence a world without rulers or ruled. He infamously accused the contemporary generation of Muslims and Muslim countries as being regressions to jahiliyah, the pre-Islamic dark ages.
Gray maintains that both concepts have no precedence in Islamic tradition. Indeed, both flatly contradict traditional Islam’s prohibitions on rebelling against a leader, and equating any Muslim circumstance- post-revelation- with jahiliyah.
Because of Positivism’s impact on the American psyche, it saw itself as the champion of democratic and hence, universal ideals of freedom. At the height of the Cold War, America played an active role in creating al-Qaeda, and more importantly, the sloppily-articulated ideology of global jihad. Her unfettered and unconditional support of ‘mujahideen’ in Soviet-occupied Afghanistan came at a critical juncture of Muslim history. It was a low-point for Arab pride since after the watershed Six-Day War with Israel. Population growths in Muslim regimes lay close to breaking point and governments seemed unable to cope with the resultant rise in unemployment and poverty.
The channels for weapons, often the black market itself, and the lines of communication were set and nurtured by CIA operatives to arm jihadists against Soviet forces. Training centers and tactics (guerilla and cellular warfare) were established, often with American approval. The brutal logistical efficiency of latter-day al-Qaeda was born here.
More than anything else, Gray argues, the real target of al-Qaeda is the Saudi monarchy. The Americans are only in the picture because of their cozy financial and economic links with the House of Saud. In October 2001, MIT’s Professor Noam Chomsky witheringly observed, “The only way we can put a permanent end to terrorism is to stop participating in it.”
The twin towers of New York’s World Trade Center were not arbitrary marks. Carefully chosen for their import, the hijacked planes were nothing less than a warning shot across the bow of Saudi Arabia’s ship.
The book’s philosophical bent is not helped by Gray’s obvious rawness in writing. The ideas are compelling, but he resorts to annoying repetitions of themes where competent writing would have made a stronger case.
Nonetheless, Gray’s deep fluency in abstract thought and western trends is to be marveled. What is refreshing about “Al Qaeda & What It Means to be Modern” is the direction Gray takes in trying to establish irresistable links between modernity and the phenomenon that is al-Qaeda. In so doing, he shatters all pre-conceived notions about Islamic fundamentalism. The book also forced me to re-evaluate the age-old question of ‘what comes next?’. If history has proven one thing, it is that the future is as uncertain as it is irreversible.
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I would heartily recommend Gray’s polemic “Straw Dogs”. It is an excellent read, and not too lengthy!