http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2014/08/al-qaedas-new-front-jihadi-rap-110481_full.html#.VAPivUuBuDU



Al Qaeda’s New Front: Jihadi Rap





Abdel Majed Abdel Bary, the rapper suspected of murdering American
journalist James Foley somewhere between Syria and Iraq, is the product of
a British youth culture that has managed to merge two seemingly
contradictory lifestyles: gangsta rap and jihad. Like Douglas McAuthur
McCain—an American hip-hop fan who was recently killed fighting for the
Islamic State—Abdel Bary represents a new and very scary evolution in
modern jihadi history.



U.S. Secretary of Defense Chuck Hagel recently described the Islamic State
as a threat “beyond anything we’ve ever seen.” Yet we are only just
beginning to grasp what is different about this group. One reason is that
it includes men in its ranks whom you might expect to see in a nightclub
rather than fighting in the desert for an organization that would,
traditionally, whip you for listening to music.



As a result of this cultural elasticity, the Islamic State has succeeded in
attracting supporters outside its natural recruiting pool. Both McCain and
another Westerner, Denis Mamadou Cuspert, a German citizen who died
fighting with the Islamic State—and had a previous life as rapper Deso Dogg
with three albums to his name—became converts as part of this broader
appeal.



I first began to look into this hybrid phenomenon in 2008 when I was a
journalist researching a subculture that had fused the extremism and
violence of gangsta rap with that of al Qaeda—or at least a version of it.
During a months-long investigation for British television station Channel
4, I met dozens of young men across London who tended to have three things
in common: a history of criminal activity, an ambition to be a gangsta
rapper and a fixation with the terrorist group begun by Osama bin Laden.



In a fried chicken shop in the south London district of Brixton—which saw
mass riots against the police in the 1980s—I met with several young men who
were walking examples of the powerful effect of al Qaeda’s ideology. None
came from Muslim backgrounds. Aged between 16 and 20, they were members of
a gang that identified itself around their local postal code, SW16. Their
activities revolved around crime and self promotion. So, when they were not
carrying out muggings, extortion rackets, or dealing drugs, they were
targeting rivals perceived to be encroaching on their area for beatings and
“tagging” — using graffiti to stamp the name of their gang on local
landmarks. As a gang or “crew,” as they called themselves, they produced
rap songs and videos about their exploits. By linking actions and
communications– making their criminal exploits the focus of their rap songs
– they were extremely effective in the way they projected their power to
rivals and authorities. There are similarities with the way IS seamlessly
integrates its media efforts and its military activities.



But what the gang was missing was a big vision beyond local turf wars. A
few weeks before I met them, they had decided to convert as a whole to
“Islam,” which they were drawn to because they understood it to be the
enemy of the “system,” as they also saw themselves to be. Crucially, they
were attracted to the idea that this “Islam” would allow them to continue
carrying out street robberies, break-ins and extortion of other local gangs
with the added benefit of association with a movement that was fighting
Western forces on the world stage. The money their activities brought in
was used to buy time in recording studios to further their ambitions to
become rap artists.



Their worldview was a mashup of what they called “thug life,” gleaned from
the music of their U.S. gangsta-rap heroes along with selective borrowings
from classic left wing and race-based conspiracy theories. It promoted a
do-anything approach to accumulating money and getting ahead, with a focus
on violence and intimidation. The title of rapper 50 Cent’s debut album
“Get Rich, or Die Tryin’” was regarded as an article of faith. Al Qaeda
offered a bridge that allowed this intensely local worldview to connect
with the grand narratives of global war. They already saw themselves as
soldiers in an endless urban conflict. Now, they could become warriors in
an epic, global struggle. Bin Laden would have struggled to recognize their
views as Islamic, even accordingly to his own warped definition. But the
twisted genius of his ideological creation was that they did not need his
approval to sign up.



On the face of it, it’s difficult to imagine two lifestyles more
diametrically opposed than rap and Islamism. On one side is the “bling”
culture of ostentatious consumption, alcohol, drugs and easy sex. On the
other is an austere and unforgiving worldview that seeks to recreate
seventh-century Arabia. What is frightening is that the Islamic State has
been able to bridge these two very different worlds because of the ideology
it inherited from al Qaeda, which is uses to attract young men motivated by
a vague sense of injustice and anger at the West.



In many ways, the world of hip hop runs parallel to and mirrors the place
of Islam in many urban communities in the Western world. Hip hop provides a
cultural frame of reference that allows followers to share social
experiences they feel are not appreciated by wider society—whether that is
poverty, racism, discrimination or dysfunction within their own community.
It is, in some ways, the most significant social-protest music of our era.
At the same time, followers develop and appropriate language, interactions
and dress codes – whether traditional Pakistani tribal attire or low-riding
jeans and bandanas of urban East Coast America — that they feel are more in
keeping with an “authentic” expression of their identities. Both are often
forces for good. But at the same time, both have extremes. Hip hop and
genuine Islam can help people find community and direction in a confusing
world; in some ways hip hop is the modern descendent of the social protest
music of the past. Gangsta rap and Islamist extremism, on the other hand,
are both a dark reflection of their respective mainstream expressions.



The most obvious similarity between them is a sense of grievance towards
wider society. Both focus on vengeance and fetishize violence as a way of
redressing the balance. Both also take their audiences on similar journeys.
Followers and listeners are made to feel they are at the center of an
unfolding, dangerous epic that will require guts and determination to
survive. But if they do, they will achieve some sort of everlasting
fulfilment. Among the albums of Tupac Shakur, who was killed in a feud in
1996 but remains a huge influence among many of the young men I met, are
such jihadi-inspiring titles as “Me Against the World” and “Until the End
of Time.”



While taking their adherents on similar, almost parallel, journeys. Gangsta
rap and Islamist extremism also feed off each other. So while gangsta rap
might celebrate violence, the ideology of al Qaeda provides the
intellectual justification to undertake those actions.



Abdel Bary, or L Jinny and Lyricist Jinn as he called himself in his
Youtube videos, is part of a subsection of a subsection of British youth
culture in which Islamist extremism and gangsta rap do not just run in
parallel, but fuse together. In my 2008 investigation, I met several other
young men like him who also lived in west London. Some had family
connections to Algeria, others Morocco, Iraq or the Gulf. Without exception
all their families had Islamist political leanings. Abdel Bary’s father,
who was extradited by British authorities to stand trial in the US for al
Qaeda’s 1998 bombings of embassies in Tanzania and Kenya, would be the most
extreme. Others had family members who were members of non-violent
political groups while some had fathers who fought the Soviets in
Afghanistan in the 1980s, but opposed al Qaeda’s targeting of civilians.



The young men I met — who would have been Abdel Bary’s neighbors — used the
currency of East Coast gangsta rap, the language, clothes and mannerisms,
to give themselves personas that allowed them to fit into west London
street life. All – like Abdel Bary – spent time in a local recording studio
making videos of themselves rapping, or “spitting rhymes.” Also like Abdel
Bary they drew their material from their experience struggling to adjust to
inner city London while still surrounded by the battles “back home” that
their parents were still fighting. Circumstances were difficult for them
all. Like the Brixton gang, some resorted to crime.



Abdel Bary’s lyrics echo 50 Cent and Tupac Shakur’s progression from
victimhood and violence to redemption. “I’m trying to change my ways but
there’s blood on my hands and I can’t change my ways until there’s funds in
the bank,” he raps in a track from 2012.



In later videos he refers to his anger at his father’s treatment: “I swear
the day they came and took my dad, I could have killed a cop or two.”



It was the ideology of al Qaeda and the opportunity created by IS in Iraq
and Syria that provided him an outlet for the grievances that he faced in
London.



Abdel Bary came from a family that was already somewhat familiar with the
idea of violence for Islamist causes. McCain and Cuspert, however, did not.
All three found in the ideology of al Qaeda a path offering the vengeance
and redemption that they were looking for. And the latest and most arguably
violent incarnation of al Qaeda, the Islamic State, provided the
opportunity.



IS’s ability to attract these men to its cause means that the ideological
wheels set in motion by bin Laden are reaching new audiences and converting
sympathy into participation—a dangerous development in the world of
Islamist extremism.



We should not forget that the presence of young men from Western countries
in foreign wars is a long-established tradition that includes British
volunteers in the Spanish civil war—George Orwell, for one—and American
pilots fighting in the Battle of Britain. In these and other conflicts, the
volunteers were motivated by what they saw as injustice happening to
others. And now, the Islamic State is using al Qaeda’s ideology to link
injustice abroad with the potential recruit’s own sense of grievance—in
essence, uniting personal and collective suffering under one worldview. At
the same time, it has managed to bestow on its struggle a counter-culture
sense of subversive “cool” that mainstream political parties and even
commercial brands might envy.



I have spent most of my career living and working in the Middle East and
until June, I was a British adviser to the Syrian Coalition, the
internationally recognised and supported Syrian opposition still fighting
for the goals of the original popular uprising against the Assad regime. It
is clear to me that one of the main reasons that al Qaeda’s ideology is so
powerful is that there is little else to counteract it. The majority of the
Syrian opposition, activists and sympathisers as well as fighters, are
still moderates seeking a state that respects the rule of law, protects the
rights of its people and does not differentiate on the basis of ethnicity
or beliefs. But these principles have not yet been developed into an
ideology that can inspire, motivate and mobilise. Until there is an
ideological alternative, military action will be limited in what it can
achieve against IS.

The only time I have seen al Qaeda’s messages fall flat was when the Arab
uprisings of 2011 first broke out. It was clear from its hesitant,
defensive statements that the group felt challenged by the idea of young
people in Muslim countries rising up against dictators and demanding
freedom and good governance. But that moment was all too brief; now the
Arab Spring has given way to a battle between autocrats and Islamist
militias—much more comfortable terrain for radical extremist groups like
the Islamic State.



True, al Qaeda’s actions, and the reactions of its enemies, have so far
failed to create a global popular uprising. The organisation itself is
being eclipsed. But al Qaeda was always about bin Laden’s ideology of
cosmic war rather than allegiance to the group itself. The Islamic State
still very much follows “al-Qaeda-inspired” ideology, even though the two
groups have fallen out over tactics and strategy. Bin Laden’s most
significant achievement was establishing his brand of Islamist extremism as
an overarching narrative of suffering and redemption that a wide array of
Muslim grievances could latch on to.



Today, we see in Iraq and Syria an insurgent organisation that can mobilize
people from vastly different backgrounds—people held together not just by
old grievances but by a very modern, and scary, sensibility.



Amil Khan is a former journalist for Reuters and the BBC. He now works as a
communications consultant. Follow him on twitter @Londonstani.












__._,_.___
 ------------------------------
Posted by: "Beowulf" <[email protected]>
------------------------------


 Visit Your Group
<https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/grendelreport/info;_ylc=X3oDMTJmZWhlbG1nBF9TAzk3MzU5NzE0BGdycElkAzIwMTk0ODA2BGdycHNwSWQDMTcwNTMyMzY2NwRzZWMDdnRsBHNsawN2Z2hwBHN0aW1lAzE0MDk1ODIyNTI->


 [image: Yahoo! Groups]
<https://groups.yahoo.com/neo;_ylc=X3oDMTJlYm8zaXJ1BF9TAzk3NDc2NTkwBGdycElkAzIwMTk0ODA2BGdycHNwSWQDMTcwNTMyMzY2NwRzZWMDZnRyBHNsawNnZnAEc3RpbWUDMTQwOTU4MjI1Mw-->
• Privacy <https://info.yahoo.com/privacy/us/yahoo/groups/details.html> •
Unsubscribe <[email protected]?subject=Unsubscribe>
• Terms of Use <https://info.yahoo.com/legal/us/yahoo/utos/terms/>

__,_._,___

-- 
-- 
Thanks for being part of "PoliticalForum" at Google Groups.
For options & help see http://groups.google.com/group/PoliticalForum

* Visit our other community at http://www.PoliticalForum.com/  
* It's active and moderated. Register and vote in our polls. 
* Read the latest breaking news, and more.

--- 
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"PoliticalForum" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email 
to [email protected].
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.

Reply via email to