Elizabeth R. Nugent, Yale University, elizabeth.nugent@yale.edu
This is part of the MENA Politics Newsletter, Volume 3, Issue 1, Spring 2020. Download the PDF of this piece here.
Do war conditions radicalize Islamist political actors? If so, how? And are Islamist actors radicalized differently from non-Islamist actors under the same civil war conditions? In this piece, I explore what lessons scholars interested in studying Islamists under conditions of civil war can draw from existing literature on Islamist actors, radicalization, and use of violence.
First, it is helpful to define the terms of the question. In political science, ‘radicalization’ is used to refer to a variety of changes, including shifts in ideology, rhetoric, and approaches to out-groups (Schwedler 2011). I focus here on behavioral radicalization, in which actors shift from engaging in politics peacefully, perhaps through elections or protest, to engaging in politics through violence. A civil war is “any armed conflict that involves (a) military action internal to the metropole, (b) the active participation of the national government, and (c) effective resistance by both sides” (Small and Singer 1982, 2010, though see Sambanis (2004) for a detailed discussion of the many complications created by this seemingly straightforward definition).
Scholars have extensively researched the causal mechanisms through which the political behavior of Islamist actors is shaped by the broader economic, social, and political environment in which they operate during periods of ‘normal’ (i.e. non-wartime) politics. A prominent strand of literature analyzes the way in which behavioral radicalization begins with conditions of political and social exclusion. Economic deprivation and social alienation, particularly relative to other groups, have long been identified as necessary factors for pushing actors towards violence (Gurr 1970), and studies of Islamist radicalization similarly find these elements to be important in this process (Ansari 1984, Ayubi 1991, Sivan 1985, Dekmeijan 1995).
Existing literature on Islamists has analyzed how political and social exclusion shapes these actors’ ideologies and worldviews (Wickham 2013; Ashour 2009; Schwedler 2006) and politically-relevant identities (al-Anani 2016, Nugent 2020). These identities and worldviews, in turn, affect political behaviors including official rhetoric (Tezcur 2010a, 2010b; Kurzman and Naqvi 2010), political strategies (Clark 2006; Schwedler and Clark 2006; Brown 2007), affect and relative preference positioning with regards to competing groups (Nugent 2020), and internal organization (el-Ghobashy 2005; Shehata and Stacher 2006, al-Anani 2016).
While deprivation is necessary for the process of radicalization, it is alone not sufficient to cause actors to embrace violence. Deprived and excluded groups must “also feel like militant action is the only option available to them” (White 1989). This is where repression and the broader political environment factors into the equation. Islamists embrace violence in contexts where they face “exclusionary and repressive political environments” that limit the availability of peaceful means of political contestation (Hafez 2003). This is not unique to Islamists actors; groups of various ideological persuasions are similarly radicalized by these same contexts. However, because the Muslim world is predominated by authoritarian regimes and accompanying repressive policies (Nugent 2020), Islamist actors are well represented in empirical studies of radicalization.
Do these same explanations for Islamist in periods of ‘normal’ politics help us understand Islamists in civil war environments, both in how they come to engage in civil war as well as how they are affected? If so, would we expect Islamist movements and organizations to respond in the same manner as non-Islamists to similar civil wartime conditions?
To begin, it appears that dominant explanations for behavioral radicalization during ‘normal’ politics provide significant explanatory power for understanding why Islamists turn to violence against the state or civilians in conditions of civil war. Policymakers often try to paint individuals motivated to violence, particularly those violent actors espousing religious ideologies or attached to religious groups, as having a deficient psychopathology (Silke 1998). However, the political usage of violence in civil war is a group activity (similar to arguments about terrorism summarized in Crenshaw 2000). As such, explanations of group-based grievances of economic (relative) deprivation and social exclusion, coupled with a repressive and exclusive political environment, are likely to account for the mobilization and participation of groups in civil wars. For example, the political expulsion of Islamist candidates and parties from elections accompanying the 2013 coup in Egypt correlates with subsequent patterns of anti-state and anti-Christian violence (Nugent and Brooke 2020).
The social psychological mechanisms underpinning this process explain how radicalization obtains. When groups experience violence that targets them as such, as may occur in the lead up to civil war or during it, they further distance themselves from non-targeted groups in how they define themselves and more strongly identify with that exclusive identity. This has predictable effects, such as decreasing positive affect towards non-targeted groups, polarizing preferences, and decreasing the likelihood of cooperation with non-targeted out-groups (for example: Durkheim 1912, Brewer 1979, Tajfel et al 1971, Turner 1978, Schuman and Scott 1989, Schuman et al 1997, Brewer and Brown 1998, Wagner, Kronberger, and Seifert 2002, Bastian et al. 2014). Many rebel groups started as political movements that were radicalized due to political opportunity structures, and Islamist groups are no different.
However, beyond the process of radicalization, existing Islamist scholarship leaves unanswered a number of important questions relevant to Islamism in civil war contexts. Does the sequencing of events matter for radicalization? For example, is the process and pace of adopting violence the same for a group that contested elections that were then foreclosed and a group that never had the option of contesting elections? Are Islamist groups more persistent or violent, differently or better funded, when participating in civil wars? Are they differently or better funded by international actors? Are civil wars involving Islamist groups unique in the presence or number of foreign fighter participants?
These persistent questions are likely driven by latent assumptions about Islamist exceptionalism. In early studies, analyses put forward essentialist claims that Islam’s content uniquely legitimates the use of violence against other actors. However, rebellious movements inspired by secular ethnonationalist, socialist, and right-wing ideologies have all been mobilized to violence under similar conditions (Sprinzak 1990, Rabbie 1991, Della Porta 1992). Scholars would benefit from comparing Islamist and non-Islamist actors, as well as civil wars both involving and excluding Islamist groups, to determine whether Islamist radicalization is unique, or to demonstrate its similarities with other marginalized and repressed groups.