Wednesday, 28 November 2018

The Global Movement of Moderates: An Effective Counter to ISIS?


By Kumar Ramakrishna
Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Singapore
Dated: August 06, 2015

Synopsis
Amongst the various global initiatives debated to counter the violent extremist ideology of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), one example from Southeast Asia – the Global Movement of Moderates – is worth closer scrutiny. Moderation, however, is not just for Muslims.

Commentary
INTERNATIONAL CONCERN at the rapidly metastasising global threat of the brutal Al Qaeda “mutation” known as the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), has generated concerted discussions on effective strategies to counter its highly virulent ideology that has been widely disseminated through the Internet.

High-level summits on countering violent extremism (CVE) were held in Washington and in Sydney in the first half of this year, while more recently British Prime Minister David Cameron unveiled the United Kingdom’s new multi-faceted CVE strategy as well. In Southeast Asia, one potentially powerful idea – moderation – has been promoted as a means of neutralising the extremist appeal of ISIS.

The Global Movement of Moderates
First mentioned by Malaysian Prime Minister Najib Razak at the UN General Assembly in September 2010, the concept of moderation gained traction at the 18th ASEAN Summit in Jakarta in 2011 when ASEAN leaders endorsed the initiative to establish the Global Movement of Moderates to help shape global developments, peace and security. Subsequently the ASEAN Concept Paper on the Global Movement of Moderates (GMM) was adopted at the 20th ASEAN Summit in Phnom Penh, Cambodia in 2012.

Most recently, at the 26th ASEAN Summit in Langkawi, Malaysia on 27 April 2015, ASEAN leaders reiterated in the so-called Langkawi Declaration that the GMM initiative promotes a culture of peace and complements other initiatives, including the United Nations Alliance of Civilisations. The GMM Concept Paper recommended establishing dedicated ASEAN units to coordinate and evaluate all GMM-related activities within ASEAN and globally.

The Langkawi Declaration Programme
The Langkawi Declaration identifies several clusters of functional activities to promote the moderation norm, via collaboration between the GMM, the ASEAN Foundation and the ASEAN Institute of Peace and Reconciliation. The first cluster of activities includes organising outreach programmes, interfaith and cross-cultural dialogues at the national, regional and international levels. The second cluster involves the convening of forums to share best practices in understanding and countering violent extremist ideologies. An example is the East Asia Summit Symposium on Religious Rehabilitation and Social Reintegration held in Singapore in April 2015.

A third cluster encourages enhanced information-sharing on best practices in promoting moderation among ASEAN member states. A fourth cluster involves creating mechanisms to cultivate emerging leadership especially amongst women and youth that can help invigorate ASEAN’s drive and innovation in effectively addressing CVE issues as well as other global challenges. Importantly, a fifth cluster recognises education as an effective means of socialising the moderation norm and associated values such as respect for life, diversity and mutual understanding; this is a means of preventing the spread of violent extremism whilst addressing its root causes.

Another cluster seeks to foster formal scholarly exchanges to amplify the collective voices of moderate intellectuals, while a seventh recognises the need for exchanging ideas with extra-regional dialogue partners, international organisations and other relevant stakeholders on successful case studies of engagement and integration policies that support moderation.

“God is in the Details”: Operationalising moderation
While this multifaceted plan of action by the GMM to promote the norm of moderation as a means of countering the violent extremism is commendable, as an ancient saying goes, “God is in the details”. A roundtable held in Singapore on 29 July 2015 identified several issues that need to be addressed for moderation to be effectively operationalised at the grassroots level, where the “immunisation” of vulnerable Southeast Asian Muslim constituencies against the digitised, apocalyptic-tinged Salafi Jihadism of ISIS is most needed.

But first, what exactly is “moderation” anyway?

Within Islam – from whose intellectual and theological resources a sustained counter-narrative campaign against ISIS must be fashioned – the idea of wasatiyah or the “Middle Way” of a “just and balanced community” seems to be one possible elucidation of the moderation norm. In this sense a true Muslim embodying wasatiyah effectively preserves his religious integrity whilst embracing tolerance toward both co-religionists of differing convictions on certain matters, as well as members of other – or even no – faiths.

Importantly, operationalising moderation must also involve developing clearer legal principles for regulating the ISIS penchant for takfir or excommunication of other groups – a habit that has all too frequently religiously legitimised their subsequent acts of extermination in grisly fashion.

Operationalising moderation further implies that Southeast Asian Muslims should be wary of uncritical acceptance of certain puritanical strains of the faith emanating from the Middle East. It has been suggested that Southeast Asian Islam – famously, Islam with a “smiling face” – is “lived Islam” which possesses ample religious authenticity vis-a-vis the imagined, virulently re-interpreted “desert Islam” of ISIS.

It is hence timely that in early August 2015 the two largest Islamic groups in Indonesia, Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama – boasting 90 million members between them – affirmed their desire to promote a “progressive” Islam and more tellingly, an “Islam Nusantara” or “Islam of the archipelago” and that these ideas will be promoted in cyberspace as well.

Moderation is not for Muslims only

Finally, it should be recognised that the norm of moderation is not just an issue for the Muslim community alone. ISIS aside, Southeast Asia and the world has witnessed violent extremism of other religious and ethnic stripes as well. Hence within Southeast Asia at least, encouraging broader participation in further “ASEANising” the moderation concept so that is applies beyond regional Muslim constituencies would also help ensure it gets embedded in the socio-cultural and political DNA of the nascent ASEAN Community.

Ultimately, how would we know if the GMM initiative has succeeded? One clue would be when a Southeast Asian – although it is his right of “free expression” – voluntarily decides not to say or publish anything that might hurt the religious sentiments of a fellow Southeast Asian of another faith. Ancient religious texts summarise this as the principle of “not stumbling my brother”. Hence, rather than cynical self-censorship, what really lies at the heart of genuine moderation is quite simply, charity. Once Southeast Asians and others imbibe this idea, the days of ISIS and its ilk would surely be numbered.

About the Author

Kumar Ramakrishna is Associate Professor and Head, Policy Studies in the Office of the Executive Deputy Chairman, S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University, Singapore.

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The two faces of Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula


By Gregory D Johnsen
War on the Rocks
October 11, 2018

About a decade ago, four men sat down in front of a video camera in a safe house in Yemen and started to record. They were there, they said on the video, to announce the formation of a new group: al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula or, as we have come to call them, AQAP.

Over the past 10 years, AQAP has become one of al-Qaeda’s most worrisome affiliates, carrying out attacks at home and abroad, from seizing territory in Yemen to putting bombs on planes bound for the United States. In 2010, shortly after the group was founded, the State Department estimated that AQAP had “several hundred” members. That number jumped to a “few thousand” in 2011 and then to “four thousand” in 2015. This year, the department put that estimate in the “low thousands,” although the United Nations put the number of AQAP fighters at 6,000 – 7,000. The upward trend largely holds true for the number of attacks the group has claimed. For the past two years, I tracked AQAP as part of the U.N. Security Council’s Yemen Panel of Experts. In both 2016 and 2017, AQAP claimed more than 200 attacks, a significant increase from the group’s early years when Yemen was relatively stable and AQAP was more focused on striking the West. But the numbers are misleading. AQAP may be bigger now, but it isn’t stronger. It may be carrying out more attacks, but it isn’t more of a threat.

At issue is what I call the two faces of AQAP: the domestic insurgency and the international terrorist organization. These two strands have always coexisted in AQAP, as they have for most terrorist groups. But the two are often conflated into one overall picture of the group. We hear AQAP and think of international terrorism, not the domestic insurgency. This failure by journalists, analysts, and officials to distinguish between AQAP’s two sides leads to a mistaken impression of the threat the group represents to the West.

This is why numbers don’t tell the whole story. AQAP’s domestic reach and recruits have grown significantly in recent years, but the international terrorist side has withered. The group might look and sound more dangerous than ever, but it is actually a much different organization today than it was a decade ago. Like most terrorist groups, AQAP is a complex organization doing multiple things at once, laying sewer pipes and building bombs. When we only look at one aspect of the organization we risk misunderstanding who they are, how they operate, and what they can accomplish.

A Two-Front Campaign

Within a year of the 2008 video release, AQAP had nearly assassinated Saudi Arabia’s then-deputy interior minister and managed to smuggle an underwear bomb onto a U.S.-bound flight that, but for a soggy fuse, could have been disastrous. Next came a pair of parcel bombs, rumors of surgically implanted explosives, and fears of laptop bombs on airplanes. Full-body scanners at airports and laptop bans on some international flights last year were the result.

But AQAP was also active inside Yemen, fighting the local government and working to connect with tribes. Twice in the past few years, the group has seized and attempted to administer territory in Yemen, essentially creating its own mini-states, complete with police forces and ruling councils. Both times AQAP lasted about a year before withdrawing in the face of government or international military offensives.

In an effort to deny AQAP a sanctuary from which to plot and launch attacks against the West, the United States initiated an extensive bombing campaign. Using naval warships, planes, and drones, the United States has conducted more than 300 strikes in Yemen over the past 10 years, resulting in hundreds of deaths. Of the four men featured in that late 2008 video, only one is still active in the organization. Two, the former head of AQAP and his deputy, were killed in U.S. strikes, while a third recanted and returned to Saudi Arabia not long after recording the video. The United States has killed Anwar al-Awlaki and, if recent reports are to be believed, Ibrahim al-Asiri, the group’s most widely known bomb-maker, as well. There have been successes in the war against AQAP but no lasting victory. AQAP has been weakened, but it hasn’t been destroyed.

AQAP’s Overseas Activities Dwindle

The first reason the group’s international terrorist side has been weakened is the rise of Islamic State, or ISIL. As I describe in my book, at the height of Anwar al-Awlaki’s popularity in 2011, Yemen was a destination for international recruits looking to join a jihad. But ISIL and its caliphate stole much of AQAP’s thunder — and many of its potential recruits — and the organization is now feeling that shortfall.

Combine the lack of skilled recruits with the dramatic increase in U.S. strikes over the past few years, which appear to be much more targeted than they once were, and AQAP is losing more top leaders than it is capable of replacing. In 2015, for example, the United States killed the then-head of AQAP, Nasir al-Wihayshi, who was once Osama bin Laden’s aide-de-camp in Afghanistan. Wihayshi’s replacement, Qasim al-Raymi, also has experience in Afghanistan but lacks both his predecessor’s leadership skills and his strategic patience. Al-Raymi is an understudy, better suited to carrying out orders than giving them. Absent an influx of new talent, this is what AQAP’s leadership increasingly looks like: backups forced into starting roles.

The third factor is what AQAP does have: foot soldiers. These are the local Yemenis who bolster the domestic insurgency side of the organization but do little to help the international terrorist side. AQAP has always had a lot of local fighters in its ranks, but after the Houthis — a Zaydi Shi‘a group supported by Iran — took control of the state in 2015, that number jumped significantly. (In a sign of how messy the current war in Yemen is, AQAP is also fighting both Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, which entered the war to fight the Houthis.)

When the war started, many outside observers — myself included — believed that the longer the fighting lasted, the more recruits AQAP would gain and the greater a threat it would become. We were half-right. The fighting has increased AQAP’s numbers but hasn’t made the group more of a threat to the West.  The domestic insurgency side of AQAP is thriving, but the international terrorist side has withered. This is also why the U.N.’s estimate of 6,000-7,000 members is accurate but misleading. By conflating AQAP’s two sides into a single snapshot, we misrepresent the group as well as the threat it represents.

Conclusion

AQAP is both a domestic insurgency and an international terrorist organization, and it has to be combated as such. U.S. strikes and the allure of ISIL have combined to weaken the international side, but as ISIL retreats and the fighting in Yemen continues, these losses can easily be regained. In a sense, one of the two streams feeding AQAP has been cut off, but what is needed now is to shut down the other. Without eradicating what is left of AQAP, its domestic insurgency side, there remains a risk that the group will be able to resurrect its international terrorist side.

In many ways, defeating the domestic insurgency requires more nuance and tact than crippling the international terrorist side. It can’t be done through drone strikes and SEAL raids. Many of the Yemenis who have joined AQAP are also members of local tribes. Rather than simply taking these local fighters out, what is needed is the creation of off-ramps to get them out of the organization.

The Associated Press recently reported that the United Arab Emirates has been either paying members of AQAP not to fight or hiring them to fight alongside U.A.E.-backed forces. Giving cash to the organization would be problematic, but assuming the United Arab Emirates was only handing out money to local foot soldiers to flip allegiances, that is something different and worth examining more closely. In a cash-strapped society like Yemen, particularly one in the midst of multiple overlapping wars, armed men often gravitate to the highest bidder. Flipping those who can be flipped will go a long way toward shutting down AQAP’s local recruiting stream.

Contrary to the picture painted by the numbers, AQAP is the weakest it has ever been. Decimated by drone strikes and challenged by rivals, its international terrorist side is a shadow of its former self. Only its domestic insurgency side — bolstered by Yemen’s messy war — is growing. If this side can be reduced and contained, AQAP can be defeated. But if it is allowed to remain and continue to grow, the group may be able to resurrect the international side of its organization and become a global terrorist threat once more.

About the author
Gregory D. Johnsen is a resident scholar at the Arabia Foundation and the author of The Last Refuge: Yemen, al-Qaeda, and America’s War in Arabia. From 2016 to 2018 he was a member of the Yemen Panel of Experts for the U.N. Security Council.

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Global Islamism, jihadism and Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, my defence lawyer


By Tufail Ahmed, Firstpost
Dated: October   29, 2016



Recently, I have been ridiculed and dismissed as a 'sanghi', as a Zionist and as an Islamophobe for arguing in my writings that Islamic clerics and Urdu journalists engender Islamist ideas and trap innocent Muslim youths in the web of jihadism. So, to defend me in the court of public opinion, I hereby present my advocate Maulana Abul Kalam Azad (1888-1958), the 20th century's foremost Islamic scholar who was born in Mecca as a citizen of the Ottoman Caliphate and went on to become the free India's first education minister.
But first, let's meet Abdul Hakim whose son Hafesuddin is among two dozen Keralite youths who left India to join the Islamic State (IS) in Syria this year. "My own son called me a kafir(infidel). Radicalism changed my son completely," Hakim told a TV channel on 11 July. One day, the son texted: "(I will) get the jannat (heaven), here no tax, here Shari'a law only, nobody here catching me, very good place." Hakim said: "He does not like me anymore. I don't know why he doesn't like me anymore."
The radicalisation of Hakim's son is rooted in the practice of Islamic teachings.
On 27 October, 1914, addressing a large Muslim gathering in Kolkata, Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, the internationally known cleric of his era, reflected on what should be the relationship between a jihadi son and his family members.
There are two points here: One, in Islam, only a member of the Quraishi clan can become a caliph – a theological point based on which the Islamic State rejected Afghan Taliban leader Mullah Mohammad Omar as the caliph of Muslims and Indian Islamic scholar Mualana Salman Al-Husaini Al-Nadwi of Lucknow accepted IS leader Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi as the caliph in 2014. Two, Maulana Azad was speaking at a time when the fall of the Ottoman Caliphate was in sight and his was a well-prepared, well-considered speech in support of global Islamism that led to thousands of Muslims leaving India to wage jihad in Turkey during the Khilafat Movement.
Maulana Azad was a fiery speaker and an editor par excellence. His speech gives a detailed insight into how Islamic clerics radicalise Muslims through sermons in mosques and speeches in jalsas (religious congregations). Outlining a view of global Islamism, which he explicitly endorsed, Maulana Azad told the audience: "If even a grain of the soul of Islam is alive among its followers, then I should say that if a thorn gets stuck in a Turk's sole in the battlefield of war, then I swear by the God of Islam, no Muslim of India can be a Muslim until he feels that prick in his heart instead of sole because the Millat-e-Islam (the global Muslim community) is a single body."
To inculcate the idea of global Islamism, Maulana Azad quoted Prophet Muhammad as saying: "One momin for another momin is like one brick assisting another brick in a wall." The word momin means "faithful Muslim" but is sociologically understood in the Indian Subcontinent as an Islamic superman (Mard-e-Momin), popularised by the Islamist poet Muhammad Iqbal who stole the idea of superman from German thinker Friedrich Nietzsche. Then Maulana Azad quoted the Verse 29 of the Quran's Chapter Al-Fatah which urges Muslims to be friendly between themselves and hard against kafirs (infidels). Maulana Azad translated the verse in following words: "[Be] extremely hard against kafirs but extremely sympathetic and kind among ourselves."
Maulana Azad accused Europe of inventing the bogus phrases like "the Eastern Problem" and "Pan Islamism" as "an extreme Satanic strategy" to divide the Muslim world, and lamented that Muslims were responding to it more like a scared "murder convict."
It is often argued by moderates that Islam did not spread by sword. Nevertheless, the idea of the sword has been integral to clerics' teachings. Pointing to the Ottomans who were waging jihad against Europe-backed Muslims in the Middle East, Maulana Azad said: "The last human sword of Islamic life is only in the hands of the Turks." Quoting articles from European newspapers such as the Budapest Herald and the Times of London, he said: "Europe considers it the 20th century's biggest service to civilisation to terminate 40 crore human souls, followers of Islam from anything called culture and civilisation." Although he said that "Pan Islamism" did not exist outside the mental world of Europe, in the same breath he added: "Alas, there existed pan Islamism among Muslims today! A pan Islamism for which there is no need for some secret committee of Muslims of Turkey and England to give birth to but that which we have been invited to (by Islam) from day one."
It appears that a debate was underway at the time to upgrade the MAO College into a full-fledged Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), which happened ultimately in 1920. Speaking about the need for the "Muslim University," Maulana Azad rejected territorial nationalism among Indian Muslims saying: "Remember, today, for Islam, for Muslims, any national or local movement cannot be fruitful." He rejected nationalist movements of Egypt, Turkey, Algeria and India, saying: "In my beliefs, all of this is an act of magic by the presager-Satan who makes those asleep because it does not like those sleeping [ie Muslims] to rise up." "The most important matter is that we have to build a university in Aligarh, have to collect Rs 30 lakh for this," he said and described it as a kaaba of Aligarh. More importantly, he said: "The day the university is established, wahi (revelation, of Quranic verse 5:3) … will land on the roof of the Strachey Hall (of AMU)." In verse 5:3, Allah says: "This day I have perfected for you your religion…"
Then, Maulana Azad made an astounding declaration before the Muslims of Kolkata, arguing that peace is useless and war is life. "Oh! dear brothers, remember that however rosy the idea of peace, compromise and rejection of murder and plunder in the world may be, but due to the bad luck of the world thus far the real power is the power of sword; and the source of life, the water of life is in the fountains and rivers of blood," the religious scholar declared. He was clearer: "Today, if it is asked, where to search for life of nations and evidence of life, then its answer will not come from universities of education and arts, and ancient libraries… Rather, it will be found in the metalled (war) ships which line up the coast…"
The word "peace" is frequently used by jihadi groups, but in their parlance it means the peace of Islam, which protects non-Muslims if they agree to live under that peace in lieu of jizya (tax on non-Muslims). Maulana Azad added: "That hand is pious in which the flag of compromise flutters, but only that hand can be alive which has the blood-soaked sword in its grip. This is the source of the life of (the global Muslim) nation, means of the establishment of justice…" He asked Muslims to bear in mind that at the time there was "only one sword in the defence of the religion of Allah" and that was in the hands of the falling Ottoman Caliph. He also criticised liberal Muslims who did not side with him in support of the Caliphate, saying that time has come to "discriminate between faith and kufr (non-belief)" and cited the Quranic verse 2:14: "These munafiqeen (hypocrites among Muslims), when they meet Muslims they say, we are Muslims. But when they visit alone their Satans (non-Muslims), then they say, we are with you by heart…"In the early 20th century when Maulana Azad was speaking, about 18,000 Muslims from India went to Turkey to wage jihad and women sent their jewelleries so that the Turks could continue jihad. We are much in a better shape today than a century ago.
Towards the end of his speech, Maulana Azad was conscious of the gravity of the announcement he was about to make for jihad. "Oh! dear brothers, the matter whose announcement I do not fear, it's strange if you would be scared of listening to it." And then he declared: "I say that, on every momin who believes in Allah, his messenger (Prophet Muhammad) and his book (Quran), it is obligatory that he rise up today for jihad fi sabeelillah(jihad in the path of Allah)." And then Maulana Azad added: "The first jihad for it is the financial jihad and after it if there be any need is the jihad of body and life..." He argued that "Islam is a sale and purchase (between God and followers)" and added: "The day we accepted that we are Muslims, the same day we accepted that our lives stood sold for Islam. The meaning of Islam is to surrender our heads before the only God, and then it is upon him whether he puts it in the lap of friends or under the sword of enemies."
Maulana Azad justified the sacrifice of human lives for jihad by the citing the tradition of Prophet Abraham, who offered his son for sacrifice, an occasion marked every year by Muslims as Eid Al-Azha (the feast of sacrifice) by sacrificing animals. Like today's jihadis, Maulana Azad asked Indian Muslims to preserve the Ottoman Caliphate "in their hearts as a pure religious relationship, to consider any government of the world that is its enemy as the enemy of Islam and the ones that were its friend as the friend of Islam because friendship and enmity were not for human purposes but only for the religion of Allah."
If you have been perplexed during past three years as to why Muslims from India and other nations are radicalised in favour of the Islamic State, Maulana Azad's speech gives a clear insight into the historical Muslim mind. And he was not a 'sanghi', or a Zionist, or even an Islamophobe. Today, an estimated 30 Indian Muslims are fighting alongside the IS in Syria and more than 250 youths are under surveillance in India, while some Indians are also based in Afghanistan and Pakistan. In the early 20th century when Maulana Azad was speaking, about 18,000 Muslims from India went to Turkey to wage jihad and women sent their jewelleries so that the Turks could continue jihad. We are much in a better shape today than a century ago.
Author's Note: 
Excerpts from Maulana Azad's 1914 speech used in this article are translated from Urdu book Khutbat-e-Azad (Speeches of Azad), published in 2010 by Maktaba-e-Jamal, Lahore. The book is available in India.)
About the author:
Former BBC journalist Tufail Ahmad is a contributing editor at Firstpost, and executive director of the Open Source Institute, New Delhi. 

Two Houses Divided: How Conflict in Syria Shaped the Future of Jihadism


By Hassan Hassan
Combating Terrorism Centre
Volume 11, Issue-9
October 2018


Abstract: With the collapse of the Islamic State’s territorial caliphate, the global jihadi movement is in a state of flux. But rather than being about to enter a period of mergers or takeovers, the global jihadi movement for the foreseeable future is likely to be led by two distinct and rival groups. While the relative fortunes of the Islamic State and al-Qa`ida have oscillated in recent years, developments in the jihadi environment in Syria have hardened longstanding differences between them in doctrine and approach. Neither group is on the brink of fracturing nor likely to accept the legitimacy of the other in the coming years. And this will sustain the divide.
In recent years, the global jihadi movement has been in a state of flux. When the Islamic State declared a caliphate in 2014, took over large parts of Syria and Iraq, and thereby energized Islamist extremists worldwide, some predicted it would forever eclipse al-Qa`ida. But by provoking conflict with much of the rest of the world, the Islamic State rallied a powerful coalition against it. As a result, by mid-2016, the Islamic State’s territorial decline had become vast and visible, and counterterrorism analysts began to wonder if al-Qa`ida could gain back its position as the standard bearer of the global jihadi movement. Prior to that, the military gains of the Islamic State and the caliphate that it had established had cast doubt over the viability of al-Qa`ida’s more patient strategy.
In May 2016, Abu Muhammad al-Adnani, the Islamic State’s then spokesman, conceded that his group could be expelled out of its major strongholds in Sirte, Raqqa, and Mosul, while Ayman al-Zawahiri, al-Qa`ida’s leader, mocked the deteriorating fortunes of the Islamic State. The Islamic State’s steady decline now seemed to hold the promise of vindicating al-Zawahiri’s strategy and seemed it could lead to disillusioned fighters and other jihadis joining al-Qa`ida’s ranks. 
In this context, multiple theories emerged about the possible trajectories of the jihadi organizations in the coming years. These could be grouped into three potential scenarios. The first was that al-Qa`ida would boost its ranks with defeated Islamic State members either by reclaiming the mantle of global jihad or pushing its own ideology closer to that of the Islamic State. The second was that the Islamic State would fracture into smaller groups. The third was a merger between the two rivals by settling differences amongst leaders and finding ideological and doctrinal common ground.
By the fall of 2018, none of these scenarios—an al-Qa`ida takeover of the Islamic State, a fracturing of the Islamic State into smaller groups, or a merger between the global jihadi powerhouses—has materialized. Both groups continue to operate as rival and distinct entities and engage in a war of words. For example, in a speech released on September 11, 2018, al-Zawahiri railed against a “deviant” group containing “innovative extremists who declare takfir on us and deem our blood permissible, and against whom we may be forced to fight.”5 Rather than ideological differences between the groups softening, the passage of time is hardening differences in approach and doctrine, creating the conditions for sustained competition and acrimony between the groups and a long-term schism between two different schools of jihad.
The History of a Rivalry
The modern jihadi movement has, from its inception half a century ago, seen large divides between different groups and approaches. The bifurcation of global jihad into two streams has complex causes that stretch back decades. But, as it has been oft observed, some of the roots date back to differences in approach and doctrine apparent in Afghanistan before 9/11 between al-Qa`ida’s senior leadership and the relatively more extreme Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who maintained a significant degree of autonomy and would later lead al-Qa`ida in Iraq, the group that eventually turned into the Islamic State. These differences became much more apparent during the Iraq insurgency. While professing loyalty, al-Zarqawi ignored the objections of al-Qa`ida top brass to pursue a campaign of sectarian bloodletting in Iraq. His successors, the leaders of the rebranded Islamic State of Iraq, maintained the group’s affiliation with al-Qa`ida, but only paid lip service to notion of juniority to al-Qa`ida’s high command.

The jihadi expansion in the region came in the wake of the popular uprisings of 2011, the killing of Usama bin Ladin, and the transition of al-Qa`ida into the leadership of al-Zawahiri. It also came at a time of strained relations between the Islamic State of Iraq and the top brass of al-Qa`ida. For years, the Islamic State of Iraq had taken a more extreme approach to jihad than al-Qa`ida, despite the latter group’s strong privately communicated protestations. The Iraqi affiliate’s attacks on Shi`a civilians and mosques and other aspects of its approach caused al-Qa`ida ‘Central’ discomfort. But al-Qa`ida leaders could console themselves that the Iraqi branch continued to revolve in al-Qa`ida’s orbit, communicate with its leaders, and refer to them as its emirs. This made the new Islamic State in Iraq venture in Syria nominally an al-Qa`ida enterprise. Jihadis in Syria considered themselves part of al-Qa`ida “through the circle of the Islamic State of Iraq.”
In other words, despite tension with a more proactive branch in Iraq, al-Qa`ida’s overall leadership of the global jihad was not publicly in question. Jihadis loyal to bin Ladin’s legacy sought to organize across the region in the context of popular uprisings against dictatorships, under different monikers but all ultimately under the banner of al-Qa`ida. As peaceful protests turned into violent conflicts in the region, al-Qa`ida’s presence increased to unprecedented levels, and the organization became larger and more widespread than at any time before, especially in restive countries like Libya, Yemen, and Syria.
During that time, al-Qa`ida had to compete primarily for influence with movements and ideas with which it shared little, rather than like-minded violent groups. Islamists like the Muslim Brotherhood sought to gain power through the ballot box, while jihadi militants like the Taliban and the Islamic State of Iraq revolved around the same orbit and did not attempt to outshine al-Qa`ida globally. To ride the popular wave, al-Qa`ida and local jihadis had a de facto division of labor, whereby al-Qa`ida provided an essential source of legitimacy, vision, and continuity, while local groups did the work on the ground to infiltrate and dominate. Seen through this prism, jihadis in Iraq initiated the establishment of a jihadi group in Syria that would later polarize the jihadi community worldwide like never before.
The proximate cause of the current schism within jihadism can be traced back to the summer of 2011 in Syria, when half a dozen members of the Islamic State of Iraq (a group then at least nominally part of the al-Qa`ida fold) were dispatched to the neighboring country to establish a jihadi franchise. As will be outlined below, in the years that followed, the group that was formed, Jabhat al-Nusra, would play a pivotal role in widening the wedge between al-Qa`ida and its Iraqi branch. And when its leadership eventually chose to follow the leadership of al-Zawahiri rather than Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the group would arguably become al-Qa`ida most successful branch.
Al Qa`ida’s Crown Jewel (2011-2012) 
Jabhat al-Nusra began from extremely humble circumstances. It was established by five to seven vanguard fighters who had traveled from Iraq four months after the first protests against the regime of Bashar al-Assad erupted. According to its leader, Abu Muhammad al-Julani, the idea of a franchise in Syria was discussed within the Islamic State of Iraq, and the decision to establish it was made by the Iraqi leadership, which allocated half of its resources to Jabhat al-Nusra. Although the idea had been proposed and approved in Iraq several weeks earlier, the jihadis traveled to Syria in July 2011, the same month as a growing number of Syrian army defectors established a separate armed group they named the Free Syrian Army, which would become the nucleus of the armed rebellion against the regime with an initially stated aim of protecting peaceful protests from regime raids.

Despite the organizational links, Jabhat al-Nusra maintained a jihadi character independent from both al-Qa`ida and the Islamic State of Iraq. It reported directly to the Islamic State of Iraq, rather than al-Qa`ida, but was heavily influenced by the ideas of the Syrian jihadi strategist Abu Musab al-Suri, rather than by the aggressive tactics of its Iraqi patron. Jabhat al-Nusra later explained how it was able to chart a path of its own away from its Iraqi parent organization’s tactics, despite the Islamic State of Iraq’s notoriously rigid views toward other factions, especially those espousing nationalist ideals.
When al-Julani proposed the idea of expanding into Syria to his superiors, he included in the proposal an explanation of why the group needed to operate differently. Firstly, the insurgency in Iraq was a response to a foreign invasion, while the Syrian rebellion was a popular “revolution.” Secondly, Iraqi tribes were better socially organized and coherent than tribes in Syria. Thirdly, the Muslim Brotherhood had a weaker presence in Syria than in Iraq. Fourthly, Alawites were a small minority in Syria, unlike the Shi`a in Iraq. For these reasons, al-Julani proposed to have more autonomy in running the Syria branch. Echoing the teachings of Abu Musab al-Suri, al-Julani summed up his approach: “It is necessary to benefit from the Iraq experience, and the mistakes that were made, and that we should continue from the 100 at which the jihad there reached, rather than start from the zero at which Sheikh Zarqawi started.”
During the early months of its existence, the group largely focused on underground tactics, attacking what its leader at the time described as the regime’s three pillars—namely the security forces, the army, and government officials. The strategy enabled the group to strike throughout the country, creating the impression that it was larger than it actually was. The initial stage of its operation, according to its leader, involved small numbers to maximize mobility and minimize errors, and the group did not seek the recruitment of large numbers.
As the situation in Syria morphed into a full-fledged insurgency in the early months of 2012, the group quickly turned into one of the most effective forces opposed to the regime. Its tactics enabled it to revive old jihadi cells and recruit new members. In the same year, the group took control of hydrocarbon and agricultural sectors in much of eastern Syria, and emerged as one of the most powerful and rich jihadi groups in the whole region—the crown jewel of the broader al-Qa`ida network. Its rising military and financial fortunes started to worry its patrons in Iraq, who sensed that their Syrian franchise was going rogue.
A Family Dispute Leads to Divorce (2012-2014)
In 2012, Jabhat al-Nusra expanded, controlled territory along with other anti-government forces, and became a key force within the Syrian rebellion and a major destination for foreign fighters pouring into the country. Although there are few verifiable details about what caused a friction between it and the Islamic State of Iraq, much can be reconstructed from the claims and counter-claims made by the two groups, and from a close observation of the events as they unfolded at the time.

According to details published by Al-Naba, the Islamic State’s weekly magazine, the dispute began after secret letters from operatives in Syria suggested Jabhat al-Nusra was drifting away from the Islamic State of Iraq and its ideology. Those reports were initially dismissed by the Islamic State of Iraq leadership due to confidence in al-Julani and Abu Mariyyah al-Qahtani, an Iraqi who was then Jabhat al-Nusra’s number two and its top mufti. The group in Iraq later dispatched al-Baghdadi’s deputy, Abu Ali al-Anbari, to personally investigate the situation. According to Al-Naba, al-Anbari spent a month touring Jabhat al-Nusra’s bases and meeting its members. According to the same account, he ultimately concluded that al-Julani was deviating from the group’s ways, and sent al-Baghdadi an appraisal of al-Julani:
“He is a cunning person; double-faced; adores himself; does not care about the religion of his soldiers; is willing to sacrifice their blood in order to make a name for himself in media; glows when he hears his name mentioned on satellite channels.”
Al-Anbari’s letter prompted al-Baghdadi to visit Syria in January 2013 to probe and salvage the situation. Having recognized that the group in Syria was slipping away, al-Baghdadi along with his loyalists started to contact commanders and members individually to lay the ground for a unilateral declaration of a merger. By the time al-Baghdadi announced a merger (which was in effect a takeover) creating the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria in April 2013, many of Jabhat al-Nusra’s key commanders and members, especially among foreign fighters, had pledged loyalty to him.
The remaining elements of Jabhat al-Nusra not subsumed into al-Baghdadi’s organization pledged allegiance instead to al-Zawahiri, citing his credentials as the emir of what had been the two al-Qa`ida branches in Iraq and Syria. For Jabhat al-Nusra, the reaffirmation of allegiance to al-Zawahiri was a way to safeguard its jihadi legitimacy and avoid further disintegration and defection, despite earlier attempts to conceal the links with al-Qa`ida Central in order to ensconce itself into the anti-government rebellion. In his interview with Al Jazeera Arabic later that year, al-Julani explained that one reason why his group had not announced its links to al-Qa`ida before was because of negative popular perceptions of al-Qa`ida. The idea, he said, was for his group to present its struggle and accomplishments to ordinary people before revealing the links, to avoid prejudices. In the same interview, al-Julani otherwise described the dispute with the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria as part of “a difference among members of the same family.”
This episode is important, as al-Julani’s group would, in 2016, cite similar reasons related to the local reality in Syria in distancing itself from al-Qa`ida Central. Back in 2013, Jabhat al-Nusra rejected al-Baghdadi’s takeover attempt on practical grounds, since it believed it would undermine its operation in Syria and turn the rebels, their supporters, and their backers against it. Even though public association with al-Qa`ida was not an ideal scenario, it was then preferred over association with the Islamic State of Iraq, since the latter wanted to bring Jabhat al-Nusra and its day-to-day operation fully under its command and order it to pursue the aggressive tactics for which it was known.
The dispute deepened the friction between al-Qa`ida and its Iraqi offshoot. Al-Zawahiri tried to resolve the conflict between al-Julani and al-Baghdadi, but his instruction for the situation to return as it was before April 2013 was snubbed by al-Baghdadi. Tension escalated over time as each insisted on his own strategy to run matters in Syria.
Hostility between the two was exacerbated by the broadening rebel infighting that dominated the Syrian rebellion throughout 2013 and the early months of 2014. Al-Zawahiri and the Syrian branch preferred to work closely with like-minded groups in Syria. In a recording released years later, al-Zawahiri revealed that he had instructed Jabhat al-Nusra to unite with other Syrian jihadis operating under the Islamic Front, a coalition of jihadi and Islamist forces established in the fall of 2013. Although Jabhat al-Nusra did not merge with the Islamic Front, the two organizations worked closely until the latter fractured several months later. By contrast, the newly formed Islamic State of Iraq and Syria waged a drawn-out war against the rebels and the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria.
Attempts to restrain the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria failed. As the rebels fought the regime on the frontlines, the group focused on establishing checkpoints, enforcing sharia, and began campaigns to expel Sunni rebels fighting Assad from areas they had previously taken from the regime, such as Raqqa, Deir ez-Zor, Aleppo, and Hasaka. Its tactics alienated the rebels and their supporters inside and outside Syria. It was during this period that derogatory labels against al-Baghdadi’s organization first appeared, including Daesh (an Arabic acronym meant pejoratively because it signifies harshness) and Khawarij (after an extremist group that emerged during Islam’s early days, described and condemned extensively in Islamic texts). Those terms reflected widespread concern in the Arab and Muslim world over the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria’s aggressive tactics against the rebels. In February 2014, al-Qa`ida had enough. In a statement, its General Command disavowed al-Baghdadi’s group and severed any ties between the two groups.
The Islamic State Ascendant (2014)
Wide condemnation did not stop al-Baghdadi, and his group went on to control large swathes in Syria and Iraq, contributing to the disintegration of several powerful anti-government forces in Syria. In June 2014, the group declared the establishment of a caliphate after it took the city of Mosul.

The stunning military gains made by what was now called the Islamic State pushed al-Qa`ida loyalists in Syria into further disarray. The surging fortunes of al-Baghdadi’s group had come as a surprise to many. When al-Zawahiri had disavowed the Islamic State in February 2014, the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria group was embattled across Syria. It had been expelled from all of Deir ez-Zor by Jabhat al-Nusra and its allies, except for a small town between Deir ez-Zor and the Iraqi border. Similarly, al-Baghdadi’s group had been expelled from all areas in Idlib and most of Aleppo. And in May 2014, rebel groups had launched an offensive to oust the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria from its last fortress in Raqqa. Yet, in June 2014, al-Baghdadi’s group reversed most of its losses and went on the offensive in eastern and northern Syria, as well as in Iraq.
In the months that followed, the situation continued to worsen for al-Qa`ida. The Islamic State continued to expand its territory, and by the fall of 2014, the U.S.-led coalition’s strikes against it provided the organization with a jihadi cause that the Syrian conflict had initially failed to provide, since the group had tended to fight against Sunni rebels more than it did against the regime.23 With its military gains and proclaimed caliphate, the Islamic State started to morph into a competitor to al-Qa`ida for the leadership of global jihad, eventually directing, coordinating, and inspiring a series of terrorist attacks in Europe and other parts of the world. The transformation entrenched preexisting and long-running differences in tactics and vision between the two groups. These differences were not new; they merely came to the fore and were inflamed and aggravated by these developments.
The greatest questions that deepened the rift between the organizations centered on matters concerning legitimacy and authority. The decreasing deference shown to al-Qa`ida’s top command by its nominally junior affiliate in the previous decade had eventually led to a rupture. But now the newly declared caliphate represented an existential threat to al-Qa`ida. If Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi were to become widely accepted within the global jihadi movement as a legitimate caliph, then all authority would be seen to rest with him. In theory, this would in turn require all other jihadi groups to dissolve and swear their allegiance to him.
As al-Zawahiri would later put it, “for whose benefit is al-Baghdadi demanding—and he claims to be a Caliph—the cancellation of the emirates and the great mujahid groups? … We do not acknowledge this Caliphate and we do not see it as a Caliphate on the prophetic method, instead it is an emirate of taking over without consultation.”
In a series of messages, senior al-Qa`ida figures argued that al-Baghdadi had failed to obtain the consensus necessary to declare a caliphate or to create a territorial entity large enough for him to credibly be anointed the defender of Muslims. “The dispute caused by [al-Baghdadi] is a double crime,” al-Zawahiri stated, “because he caused fragmentation with an innovated caliphate, without Shura [consultation] or empowerment on the ground.”
Al-Baghdadi’s self-anointment as Caliph had another important consequence. It meant his fighters saw him as the absolute authority on how jihad should be prosecuted. Given his group’s track record of sectarian bloodletting and his own penchant for sadism, this set the stage for—and from the Islamic State’s point of view, legitimized—the extreme brutality perpetrated by the Islamic State that followed, creating greater divergence with a relatively more restrained al-Qa`ida.
As symptomatic of long-running differences, the divergence is now arguably permanent, contrary to the tendency to view it as one that began with the announcement of the caliphate and could thus be overcome after its demise. The Islamic State developed into a transnational organization that established affiliates in the form of wilayat throughout the region. Its rise for a period of time eclipsed al-Qa`ida and threatened to unseat it, especially because some of the affiliates that joined the caliphate had previously been part of al-Qa`ida’s orbit.26 Al-Qa`ida’s leadership was now contested by a visibly more successful organization that dared to establish a physical caliphate, one that al-Qa`ida and other Islamists and jihadis had long theorized about.
Changing Fortunes (2015-2018)
Despite the rise of the Islamic State, al-Qa`ida largely doubled down on its approach even as it attempted to contain further losses to its rival. Shortly after the Islamic State’s announcing of the caliphate, Jabhat al-Nusra seemed anxious about the Islamic State’s military momentum. In audio remarks leaked in July 2014, al-Julani unveiled a plan to form an emirate in northern Syria consisting of four branches, with a “mobile army,” to implement sharia in different parts of Syria. This move was a departure from Jabhat al-Nusra’s strategy of not imposing its ideology. In retrospect, the leak was possibly designed as a trial balloon to gauge interest in the idea within and outside of the organization, and the plan never materialized. In the leaked audio, al-Julani emphasized affinity with the Taliban leader Mullah Omar, al-Qa`ida, and acclaimed jihadi ideologues such as Abu Mohammed al-Maqdisi and Abu Qatada al-Filistini, who rejected the Islamic State’s caliphate declaration as counterproductive to jihad.

In the early months of 2015, the situation began to improve for al-Qa`ida and its allies, after a string of military gains expelled the Syrian regime from large parts of northwestern Syria. The rebels, led by Jabhat al-Nusra and its close jihadi ally Ahrar al-Sham, reached the heartlands of the Alawite regime in western Syria, while the Islamic State faced setbacks in places like Kobane in northeastern Syria.
Al-Qa`ida in Syria began to look successful from the perspective of jihadis. And by the following year, it was clear its position relative to the Islamic State was also improving. This was increasingly apparent in the spring of 2016, when the Islamic State’s ability to hold ground had visibly weakened. The turn of fortunes was reflected in an optimistic tone by al-Zawahiri in May 2016, in which he sounded assured of his decision to reject “the caliphate of Ibrahim al-Badri,” a mocking reference to al-Baghdadi’s real name without the jihadi honorifics.
During the course of 2016, the momentum shifted back to al-Qa`ida. Its rival was widely accused of bringing nothing but destruction to Sunni towns and cities in Iraq and Syria, while al-Qa`ida’s cautious strategy caused it to become a force leading coalitions across Syria. There were even whispers of preparations by al-Qa`ida’s loyalists to rebuild networks in areas previously held by the Islamic State. Al-Qa`ida was poised to gain from its wayward offshoot’s decline, naturally leading many to wonder whether al-Qa`ida was now the more dangerous group.
However, al-Qa`ida’s good fortunes did not last for long. By the end of 2016, the Assad regime had recaptured Aleppo despite a series of attempts by al-Julani’s group and its allies to prevent its fall, and internal disputes had seeped into al-Qa`ida’s circles in the country. The recapture of Aleppo would prove to be the beginning of a long list of steady gains by the Assad regime, and a steady decline of the rebels and Jabhat al-Nusra, who became crammed into Idlib province and adjacent areas.
As al-Qa`ida and the Islamic State weakened, both exhibited signs of internal tribulations. In July 2016, Jabhat al-Nusra changed its name to Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, an effort to merge with rebel groups and put distance between itself and al-Qa`ida. The nature of the rebranding is still a matter of debate among analysts tracking the group in Syria, but the consensus of the various parties directly involved can be summed up as follows: the group had agreed with al-Qa`ida’s representatives inside Syria to announce the severance of links to an external entity while maintaining a secret oath of allegiance to al-Zawahiri, akin to al-Qa`ida in Iraq’s move in 2006 to dissolve itself and form the Mujahideen Shura Council. But the ruse later faced an unexpected setback when al-Zawahiri learned about it, rejected it, and demanded its reversal.
By early 2017, circumstances in Syria, primarily Turkey’s military intervention in the north and the shrinking territory held by the rebels, increased pressure for Jabhat al-Nusra to appear independent from al-Qa`ida. This led Jabhat al-Nusra to reach out to powerbrokers in Turkey and other regional countries to build ties with them and reassure them of its future plans.i In other words, the decision by Jabhat al-Nusra’s leadership to reject al-Zawahiri’s demands to reverse the rebranding and announce public links to his group was most likely informed by the same existential logic that led the group to reject al-Baghdadi’s merger/takeover in 2013. Arguably, if it had not been for the demands initiated by al-Zawahiri, relations between the two would unlikely have suffered.
The internal disputes led to a realignment within al-Qa`ida’s orbit in Syria. After Jabhat al-Nusra’s rebranding, a group of defectors began to form a separate jihadi group with loyalty to al-Zawahiri. Such a plan gained momentum after al-Zawahiri, in a November 2017 statement, accused Jabhat al-Nusra of betraying its oath of allegiance, insisted that the oath still applied, and the group would thus have to obey his demands of reversal of the rebranding. In February 2018, a number of defectors formed a new group called Tanzim Hurras ad-Din (the Guardians of Religion Organization). The group’s leadership consists in large part of Jordanian jihadis with old close ties to the founder of the Islamic State, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, and known to take inspiration from Jordanian jihadi ideologues al-Maqdisi and Abu Qatada.
This means that rather than being understood as a product of a standoff between al-Qa`ida loyalists and deserters, Tanzim Hurras ad-Dinj should be seen as an entity formed and dominated by a clique of Jordanian jihadis, who long had their differences with al-Julani even before the idea of a rebranding emerged.
Indeed, rather than being deserters, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), as Jabhat al-Nusra is now known, still has foreign jihadi veterans and communicates with al-Qa`ida’s top leadership. Hostilities between HTS and the Jordanian jihadis in Tanzim Hurras ad-Din did not amount to much beyond a war of words and a brief arrest of Hurras ad-Din’s leaders. Reports to the country arguably inflate the degree of acrimony.
Despite their differences, both HTS and Hurras ad-Din could still be considered as part of al-Qa`ida’s school or orbit. The verbal escalation in the fall of 2017 came to an abrupt end in early 2018, with conversations the author undertook with jihadi or opposition sources inside Syria suggesting the groups have agreed to coexist. Although the alleged deal between Hurras ad-Din and al-Qa`ida representatives on the one side and HTS on the other remains unclear, it is safe to assume that they serve different functions that equally serve al-Qa`ida’s established objectives: one appeals to hardened jihadis with an uncompromising doctrine focused on jihad beyond Syria and one appeals to those focused on the Syrian war. In other words, whatever differences exist between HTS and other groups, they are about how to manage the conflict in Syria, and should be seen as al-Julani once described his group’s dispute with the Islamic State, as “a dispute among family members.” The two groups could mend fences, depending on how the situation unravels in the last rebel stronghold in northwestern Syria, where Jabhat al-Nusra now holds sway, and where al-Qa`ida and Hurras ad-Din continue to operate freely in Nusra-dominated areas.
The Islamic State has also faced internal friction. Internal ideological differences within the group existed since the start of its operations in Syria in 2013-2014, which came to a head in the wake of the group’s territorial losses. A more extreme current within the Islamic State, known as the Hazimis, named after a Saudi cleric, often clashed with the group’s ideologues and leaders over questions related to takfir, or the practice of labeling a Muslim an apostate. Although Hazimis constituted a small minority within the Islamic State and their ideas never became dominant, they briefly took over the group’s highest body, under al-Baghdadi, known as the Delegated Committee, until al-Baghdadi in 2017 reversed their control of that body. Since then, the Islamic State has made clear its rejection of the Hazimis’ ultra hardline interpretation of takfir, dampening the possibility the entire Islamic State group will fragment.
Even as its fortunes have plummeted, the Islamic State has been able to contain internal friction, ensuring no dire fractures thus far. Deeper cracks emerged within the al-Qa`ida movement because of the tension between al-Zawahiri and al-Julani, but there has been a reduction in tension in recent months and al-Qa`ida’s onetime affiliate still revolves around al-Qa`ida Central’s orbit. In short, neither group is on the brink of fracturing.
The Outlook after the Caliphate
There is little reason to believe that the Islamic State will gravitate toward al-Qa`ida after the demise of its caliphate. Instead, having laid claim to being the only legitimate standard bearer of global jihad, it will likely strive to continue to hold onto that mantle. Competitiveness, rather than collaboration or convergence, will probably define the organization’s strategy for the coming years. Similarly, al-Qa`ida is unlikely to gravitate toward a group that it disavowed when it was on the rise now that it has, to some degree, been defeated and discredited.

Another reason the Islamic State and al-Qa`ida will likely remain distinct rival power centers is that these organizations, or their affiliates, previously stuck fast to their ideologies and strategies even during some of their most challenging times. The Islamic State, for example, continued to insist on fighting other jihadis and Islamists even though the militants were being pushed back from most of Syria in the early months of 2014. If it compromised and agreed to share influence in rebel-held areas, the group would have avoided the pushback from various militant factions, but instead insisted on its rigid ideology and aggressive tactics. Similarly, on the al-Qa`ida side of the ledger in 2013, Jabhat al-Nusra confronted its former leaders in Iraq because it believed publicly subordinating itself to Islamic State leaders in Iraq who originally set up their Syria venture would constitute operational suicide, and refused to compromise even while many of its fighters joined the al-Baghdadi faction.
Such decisions during periods of extreme hardships highlight the profound convictions each of these groups has about its approach. This is unlikely to change in the coming years. Apart from rivalry and infighting, each of these groups also views its rival’s approach as flawed, ineffective, or limiting. Al-Qa`ida and its allies (including al-Julani’s group in Syria) believes the Islamic State’s aggressive methods alienate communities. The Islamic State considers al-Qa`ida and al-Julani’s approach of winning hearts dilutes the purity of the jihadi cause and failed each time it was tried, whether in Iraq when it was applied in the early years of the anti-U.S. insurgency before fellow insurgents turned against it, or in Syria when al-Qa`ida failed to dominate the anti-government rebellion, except in the northwest. Divergence over issues such as sectarian violence is another impediment for any rapprochement. The Islamic State views Shi`a as heretical and has openly declared war on them in places like Afghanistan, Yemen, Iraq, and Syria.
Al-Qa`ida’s focus is most likely to be limited to recruiting disillusioned Islamic State members, rather than trying to reach a rapprochement with the Islamic State. This approach has been evident since al-Zawahiri’s statements in 2016, as the Islamic State began to weaken. An al-Qa`ida affiliate like Hurras ad-Din in Syria might be better positioned than others to attract Islamic State fighters, due to its affinity to the original founder of the Islamic State (al-Zarqawi) and his onetime mentor, al-Maqdisi. And the Islamic State seems to be concerned about this. Curiously, in a lead article in one of Al-Naba’s issues, the Islamic State labeled Hurras ad-Din as the “guardians of polytheism” and warned their own followers from “aligning with them in any form, until they repent from their apostasy.” The warning reflects a fear that such jihadis could attract members who might be operating in northwestern Syria, where Hurras ad-Din is based. However, even if defections happen, they will likely be negligible in number and limited to members outside the group’s core, for two reasons. First, Hurras ad-Din’s reach is geographically limited to northwestern Syria. Second, judging from many years of disputes and conflicts, in Iraq and elsewhere, the defection of hardened Islamic State members to other groups is extremely rare. Simply put, sizable defections from the Islamic State to al-Qa`ida similar to the reverse ones that took place in 2014 are very unlikely.
Finally, any ideological friction within the Islamic State is unlikely to lead to a notable fracture within the organization, although it is possible that an offshoot comprised of small numbers of Islamic State hardliners could emerge in the coming years, under two scenarios. The first scenario is if members contesting al-Baghdadi’s leadership take control of one of the group’s remote franchises. Such a scenario is less likely in Syria and Iraq, where the group has a tight control of the organization, often by longstanding loyalists. The second scenario is if al-Baghdadi dies. His death would open the possibility of small-scale fractures, which the group has so far prevented despite the military upheavals it has faced in recent years.
Even so, “hardliners” within the Islamic State will unlikely manage to form a meaningful separate entity. The group has quickly moved to purify its ranks from such hardliners and has so far successfully done so. The crackdown, the limited numbers of such individuals, and the experience the Islamic State’s senior leaders have in weeding out such internal trouble makers over the years leaves little reason to believe that hardliners like the Hazimis could cause the group to fracture.
For the foreseeable future, no convergence between al-Qa`ida and the Islamic State will likely take place, and no large-scale defections from one group to the other should be expected. The Islamic State has so far not projected any sense of defeatism that may force it to revise the overall strategy for which it came to be known since it rebranded as the Islamic State of Iraq in 2006. Nor will it in the foreseeable future likely abandon its aggressive tactics and hyper-sectarianism. In the years during and since the Iraqi insurgency, these became cemented into the approach and ideology of the group.
Since its declaration of a caliphate in 2014, the Islamic State has sought to dominate international jihad, unlike when it had acted under, and sought legitimacy from, al-Qa`ida in the years before that. This will no doubt continue. Aside from the fighting that has taken place between the two, each group continues to believe that its strategy is more effective, and each seeks to dominate the other to establish itself as the leader of global jihad.     
About the author:
Hassan Hassan is a senior research fellow at George Washington University’s Program on Extremism, focusing on militant Islam, insurgencies, Syria, and Iraq. He is the co-author of ISIS: Inside the Army of Terror, a New York Times bestseller chosen as one of The Times of London’s Best Books of 2015 and The Wall Street Journal’s top 10 books on terrorism. He is also a senior fellow at the Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy in Washington, D.C. 
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