Islamists in the other Europe
Praveen Swami, The Hindu
December 28, 2007
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.