by Katherine Seifert
1st part of 2
As U.S. policymakers become increasingly uneasy about the fate of the remaining detainees currently held at Guantánamo Bay, greater attention is being paid to so-called jihadist rehabilitation programs that have been established abroad. Numerous governments, including Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Singapore, Canada, and Britain, have established programs that seek either to rehabilitate Islamist terrorists or to prevent further radicalization of jihadist sympathizers. Different states tailor their programs to the mores, laws, and needs of their societies. Muslim-majority countries concentrate on radicals who have either crossed the line into actual terrorist activities or who are active members in Islamist organizations deemed to be a threat to the state. Western initiatives focus instead on individuals who may seek camaraderie with extremist groups online or at local mosques; their programs seek to forestall further radicalization. While there is a clear divergence in approach, both must answer the same question: Have their efforts been successful or have they merely released detainees into their respective societies who feign detoxification but whose commitment to jihad has merely gone underground? The wrong answer to this question poses a serious threat to global, as well as local security.
In 1997, Egypt became the birthplace for a new approach to counterterrorism when it allowed imprisoned members of the Islamic Group (Al-Gama'a al-Islamiya or GI), a violent offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood, to meet and reevaluate their core ideology, hoping they might renounce violence as the parent organization did in the 1970s. That year, imprisoned leaders issued a cease-fire, and a few years later, after consulting with Islamic scholars from Al-Azhar University, high-ranking members of the organization released twenty-five volumes of revisions to their philosophy, entitled Tashih al-Mafahim (Corrections of concepts).[1] The revisions, for example, argue that Islam does not permit killing or terrorizing non-Muslim civilians and discusses the dangers that Al-Qaeda poses to Muslims worldwide.[2] The group was also permitted to keep its leadership within the prison in the hope that once senior members renounced violence, they would help convince others to follow a more moderate path. In 2007, imprisoned leaders of the Egyptian Islamic Jihad (Al-Gihad al-Islami al-Masri or GIM), another violent Islamist group founded in the late 1970s, followed in the footsteps of GI by instituting what they called their own "collective reform." With the support of Egyptian security authorities, incarcerated GIM leaders, including founder Sayyed Imam al-Sharif (aka Dr. Fadl), were allowed to hold meetings with other imprisoned members. In May 2007, Sharif publicly condemned violence using the pages of the influential London-based daily, Asharq al-Awsat to make his announcement.[3] In response, prison security authorities began to separate those prisoners who objected to this new initiative from those willing to follow Sharif's path and renounce violence.[4]
By encouraging extremists to reevaluate their groups' ideologies, Egyptian authorities were able to get leaders of GI and GIM ostensibly to revise their strategies and steer members away from violence. At the same time, allowing the leadership to stay intact may have helped legitimize these groups and their messages. Over the years, however, these groups have splintered into factions, some of which refuse to acknowledge these nonviolent reforms. For example, prominent Muslim Brotherhood member Essam el-Erian, who had apparently wearied of reform initiatives for not providing solutions to members waiting on real-world reform, complained: "We welcome these revisions because we have called for many years to stop violence … But these revisions are incomplete. They reject violence, but they don't offer a new strategy for reform and change."[5]
Although Egypt's counter-radicalization program has been called "the most extensive of any Arab country,"[6] accurate recidivism rates for formerly imprisoned members of these terrorist organizations are hard to come by. One source notes that the program has not been "actively pursued."[7] Meanwhile, the Egyptian government has released hundreds of prisoners whose once-militant leaders renounced violence.[8]
It is far from clear whether these jailhouse conversions are part of a collective effort to fake cooperation and ensure a quick release of members or whether they are sincere. Despite this, other Muslim-majority countries are now following the Egyptian example, using counselors and clerics to de-radicalize terrorist detainees and trying to make sure that the "right" message is taught.
Yemeni Attempts
Yemeni judge Hamoud al-Hitar began visiting radical Muslim prisoners held in Yemeni detention centers and engaging them in theological debates as early as 2000.[9] In 2002, he was named head of the Dialogue Committee, an initiative called for by presidential decree, with a brief of rehabilitating imprisoned jihadists.[10] With ideology at the core of radical organizations, Yemeni officials thought that by dialoguing and correcting beliefs, violence would be rejected by inmates once freed. The committee planned on selecting a small group of prisoners, questioning them about their views on Islam, and challenging them to use Qur'anic texts to justify their resort to violence.
The results of the program have been poor, with Yemeni president Ali Abdullah Saleh admitting to only a 60 percent success rate.[11] Yemen has released five hundred prisoners, and many are known to have returned to their violent pasts,[12] making it one of Al-Qaeda's top countries for recruits. The ineffectiveness of the Yemeni initiative lay in the ease with which detainees could go through the motions of de-radicalization by signing a slip of paper, being granted their freedom, and only being required to check in regularly with their parole officers. Dozens have returned to violent jihad and have been recaptured by U.S. forces; the program has even become a joke among detainees. As one detainee interviewed by Newsweek put it, "To be frank, everyone was making fun of [Judge Hitar]."[13]
The program was forced to shut down in 2005, but Yemen is now being pressured by U.S. counterterrorism officials to create a new facility for detainees returning from Guantánamo Bay (nearly one hundred of the approximately 229 remaining detainees are from Yemen).[14] However, President Saleh refuses to commence construction on a center without U.S. funds; he has claimed he was promised $11 million for the center.[15] According to one source, the prisoners in the original program saw it as an insincere attempt to bolster Yemen's reputation as a country tough on its terrorists. Saleh's current refusal to act bolsters the claim of one of Hitar's former students: "We all understood that it was just extortion to take money from the Americans. They were just playing with us."[16]
The Saudi Model
The Saudi Arabian government also faced skepticism from its prisoners when it first began the Munasaha (advisory committee) initiative in its prisons in 2004, but since then, it has managed to convince detainees that the scholars who run the program are respectable clerics rather than government puppets.[17] The kingdom's overall strategy goes in English by the name PRAC for Prevention, Rehabilitation, and AfterCare[18] and includes lectures arranged by the Ministry of Education as well as published material condemning violence along with government-sponsored programs aimed at deterring citizens from radicalism. Exactly how this is accomplished is not entirely clear, as the Wahhabi interpretation of Islam which serves as a basis for all these efforts, is arguably one of the most extreme versions of the faith as well as the official religion of Saudi Arabia. For example, the state cannot condemn jihad itself as the concept is rooted in the Qur'an. Instead, Saudi clerics employed by the PRAC initiative are forced to stipulate conditions under which it is acceptable to take up arms instead of fully denouncing the practice.[19]
The Munasaha program is conducted in Saudi prisons, which have been updated to fit the needs of jihadist detainees. New prisoners are interviewed and examined for psychological problems, and their individual belief systems are evaluated. Unlike typical prisons, each cell contains a television that transmits religious lectures,[20] and the inmates are able to debate opinions with scholars via intercom. The Saudis claim that from 2004 to 2007 only 3 to 5 percent of parolees[21] in the Munasaha program have returned to extremist action, but it must be noted that the initiative itself is self-selecting.[22] Reliable statistics have not been made available, and there are reasons to think the Saudis may want to present a positive image for themselves, given their vulnerability to the charge that their own clergy are among the most extreme. Those who participate in the program are those willing to renounce their beliefs; many were new recruits to jihadist activity, and there is evidence to suggest they are as susceptible to persuasion by Munasaha counseling as they were previously to extremist mentors.[23] Many in the program seem to have received a poor religious education, unlike the hard-line jihadi leaders captured outside of the country and transferred to Saudi hands from Guantánamo.
In 2007, counseling for terrorists expanded in Saudi Arabia to several halfway houses, collectively known as the Care Center, for post-prison continuation of rehabilitation. In November 2008,[24] Katherine Zoepf described the grounds of the center, which included swimming pools, volleyball courts, PlayStations, and ping pong tables. Upon arrival, detainees are given clothes, watches, and candy bars to ensure their comfort. Classes are offered which break down terms such as jihad and takfir (condemning fellow Muslims as unbelievers) in ways that match the Saudi government's definition of "correct" Islam (which views many non-Wahhabi Muslims as heretical). Instead of forbidding jihad, for example, the program teaches the conditions under which it is acceptable (i.e. with the approval of the Saudi government and the permission of one's parents). Family members are encouraged to visit the facility, and both the detainee and a family member must sign a pledge renouncing violence before the prisoner's discharge. On release from the program, the detainee is given several thousand dollars, a car, and sometimes additional money for marrying.[25] Those deemed to be successfully reformed are encouraged to return to the Care Center and share their stories with those currently enrolled in the program and mentor prisoners.
Should a parolee return to violence, the entire family may be punished.[26] When "graduates" Muhammad al-Oufi and Said al-Shihri appeared in an Al-Qaeda video in January 2009, their families immediately released statements denouncing them as "irreversible deviant members of society. "[27] In the video, Oufi specifically mentioned the program, warning of the Saudi attempts to reform extremists: "We warn our fellow prisoners [from Guantánamo] about this Care program ...We were used ...They tried to lead us away from Islam. But thank God, we were able to escape their power."[28] One Guantánamo returnee expressed disgust at Oufi and Shihri's actions, saying, "They have forgotten the effort extended by the state to set them free. They [should] have been very grateful and thankful to the government for the confidence it has placed in them instead of biting the hand extended to them. It shows that they are untrustworthy and don't deserve this generous and noble treatment."[29]
The Care Center program initially boasted a low recidivism rate. Then, in early 2009, the Saudis released a list of eighty-five wanted terrorism suspects,[30] eleven of whom were graduates of the counseling initiative. Saudi officials remain convinced that their program works and note a recidivism rate of 10-20 percent, [31] a number some claim is inflated in part by the higher percentage of hard-line radicals who have come straight from Guantánamo Bay and by the inclusion of those who have failed or refused to participate in the program but remain detained. A low recidivism rate would be of real significance, given the central role of Saudi radicals in international jihad. But it is not clear how graduates of the program who are not recidivists are able to retain their commitment to moderation while living within normal Saudi-Wahhabi society, a society that is openly tolerant of levels of extremism that would be troubling in the West.
Despite this, in July 2009, the U.S. Department of Defense and Department of Justice commended the Care Center for its efforts at de-radicalizing detainees.[32] It is unclear what was behind this public praise, fueling speculation that the Obama administration was seeking a quick way to fulfill its pledge to empty Guantánamo by January 2010.
Katherine Seifert
Copyright - Original materials copyright (c) by the authors.
No comments:
Post a Comment