9/11 anniversary: across the Islamic world opinion
is against the militants; Attacks on US, and the
violence after, drew Muslims away from militancy, but new events are of more
concern
·
Jason Burke in Delhi and Riyadh, Declan Walsh in Islamabad, Harriet Sherwood in Gaza, Jack Shenker in Cairo, Kate Hodal in Jakarta, Nora Fakim
in Rabat, Jon Boone in Kabul
and Giles Tremlettin Madrid
·
guardian.co.uk,
Thursday 8 September 2011 19.32 BST
Opinions across the Islamic world have shifted
strongly away from militancy since the attacks
on America a decade ago. Photograph: Martin Godwin
|
The region had
experienced separatist violence for decades, so terrorism was not new to her.
But this was different. "I was really shocked. I thought immediately of
the common people who are always the victim of these things. The innocent
people. That it could happen in America amazed me. It seemed so far away,"
she said.
Afree is the daughter of
cosmopolitan Muslim bureaucrats. Her siblings have married Hindus and
Christians. She had never seriously thought about her faith and identity.
However, the events of 11 September 2001 had an immediate effect.
There was a new
atmosphere at her convent school. "There was nothing explicit directed at
me but I felt it. I heard people saying that Islam was
an evil religion and
full of terrorists. I was suddenly aware of being Muslim in a very different
way," Afree said.
She was one of the 20
students talking with the Guardian last month at Jamia Millia
university, a Muslim institution in New Delhi, about 9/11 and its
consequences. Young people among the 160 million Muslims in India, a Hindu-majority
country with secular democratic institutions, are not necessarily
representative of followers of Islam worldwide. But no one person or community
is, and scores of interviews conducted by the Guardian in Pakistan, Iraq, Afghanistan, Morocco, Saudi
Arabia and Palestine reveal that Afee's experiences, and the
views of the students, find echoes elsewhere.
They show how 9/11
forced many who had thought little about their faith and identity to do so;
that anti-US and anti-western sentiment remains at historically high levels in
much of the Islamic world; that support for al-Qaida and
its methods has declined substantially over the past decade, despite initially
rising during the Iraq invasion; and that conspiracy theories are prevalent,
with hundreds of millions believing that the US government, the CIA or the
Mossad, the Israeli overseas intelligence service, were responsible for 9/11.
They also show that the desire for democracy, often with a deep religious
identity, is widespread.
On America
(The Statue of Liberty from Jersey City, as the lower Manhattan skyline is shrouded in smoke four days after the attack. Photograph: Dan Loh/AP) |
"We've seen a
decline of support for terrorism, America's image in decline during the Bush
years, a lot of support for democracy in general and certainly we see high
levels of religiosity in societies that wesurvey," said Richard Wike, the project's
associate director. But he added that the Muslim world is far from monolithic
and warned against making sweeping conclusions.
"Pakistan, Egypt and Jordan tend
to be more traditional or conservative in their views on law and the teachings
of the Qur'an, gender issues and so forth than Turkey or Lebanon for example.
We've tried to correlate views on gender with age, socioeconomic [status]
or education levels and it's pretty tough to
make generalisations," he said.
Opinions have evolved
over the decade and any snapshot can be misleading. So, whereas the image of
the US reached a low in the aftermath of the invasion of Iraq, it has since
recovered in some areas. Pew reveals that in Indonesia in
2000, 75% of people saw the US positively; six years later, approval levels
fell to 30%. More recently, helped by President Barack Obama's own links with
the country, they have climbed back to 54%. Elsewhere, though many still
remember their anguish over the scenes in New York City
and Washington DC and prefer Obama to his predecessor, feelings towards the US
remain generally negative. In Pakistan and Turkey in 2000, levels of favourable
sentiment towards the US were 23% and 52% respectively; but is now, according
to Pew, 11% and 10%.
Before 9/11, Zia Akhtar,
43, a Pakistani mechanic, held a positive view of the US. "But now I'm
afraid they could attack us at any time," he said.
Like many others, Akhtar
makes a distinction between government and people. "I'm not against the
people of the US, I'm against their government," he said.
Amira Salah-Ahmed, 28,
an Egyptian journalist, said the difference "between the American people
and the US government … has gotten muddled … for many people. At a younger,
more naive age I definitely had a more idealistic view of the US as a
world power and its role in promoting peace and democracy. Now I
think US
foreign policy is the bane of our existence, especially in this
part of the world," she said.
Beyond the widespread
anger at wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, another element frequently cited as
damaging relations, at least amongst the wealthy and educated, were the
tightened visa regimes and cuts in exchange programmes that were immediate
consequences of the 9/11 attacks.
"I used to see
Europe or even the US as a dream destination as a student or one day for a
holiday. Now I'd got to Dubai or Malaysia where I don't feel like a
criminal," said Khaled al'Otaibi, who runs a mobile phone business in the
Saudi Arabian port city of Jeddah.
Resa Aprienengseh, 25, a
teacher from West Sumatra, Indonesia, claimed that when friends had tried to go
to America they had been "turned away because their names sounded
Islamic".
She
added: "People in France bumped into me and tried to knock me down because
of my headscarf."
There were some
exceptions. Iyad Krunz, 38, an NGO worker in Gaza,
remembers watching the attacks on TV in his office. "My colleagues started
to scream [for me] to watch the TV. I had mixed feelings and reactions, shocked
disbelief mainly," he said. "I was shocked by the action itself‚ the
killing of ordinary people‚ but I was more shocked by the US reaction, the destruction
in Afghanistan and Iraq." New security arrangements meant it took three
months for Krunz to get a visa to visit his brother in the US, instead of the
usual three weeks, but his feelings about the country have not been changed.
"I visited the US and I loved the community, the people and the freedom.
I'd like to go back."
On
al-Qaida
One key factor in the
rejection of militant extremism from Morocco to Malaysia appears to be the
proximity of violence. In country after country, support for Osama bin Laden,
for al-Qaida's methods or for violence against civilians, relatively high when
the attacks occurred thousands of miles away, declined steeply when militants
struck at home.
"When it was a long
way away it seemed somehow unreal. But when it was on the streets of my own
town then that was very different," said Mohammed al'Najdi, 31, a
vegetable seller in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia's capital. "I knew the brother of
one of the policemen who was killed. That really shook me up and made me think."
One of the most dramatic
examples of this shift of opinion happened in Jordan: before the hotel bombings
in Amman, in November 2005, support for suicide bombing (outsideIsrael-Palestine)
stood at 57%, according to Pew; that declined to 12% by 2009, dropping by more
than half in the months after the hotel attack.
In Indonesia, support
for radical violence fell to 20% after the first Bali bombing, in 2002, from
26%, and then dropped further, to 11%, after the 2005 bombings. The steepest
drop in support for terrorism happened in Morocco: in 2006, after successive
waves of bombings in previous years, nearly 80% of people surveyed said
violence against civilians was never justified – more than double the
proportion who expressed this view in 2004. In Turkey, despite the growing
chaos in Iraq, confidence in Bin Laden to "do the right thing in world
affairs" dropped from 15% before the 2002 Istanbul bombing to 7% in the year,
then to 3% by 2005. In Egypt, the attacks of 2004 and 2005 led to 68% of people
remaining "very or somewhat concerned" by 2006 about the rise of
Islamic extremism.
On religion
(Afghan women in Kabul at a rally for the legislator Malalai Joya. Photograph: Shah Marai/AFP/Getty Images) |
Ali, 29, the manager of
a computer shop in a high-end, multi-floor electronics bazaar in Kabul,
Afghanistan's capital, was a refugee in Peshawar, the frontier city over the
border in Pakistan, in September 2001. He was too young to immediately
understand the significance of the event, he said, but he was pleased with US
invasion and the ousting of the Taliban,
which he and his family thought would improve their lives and end the war.
"It's been 10 years
that we've lived in Afghanistan. My life is improved, I have a better job than
I would have had in Pakistan, but if you look at the national perspective, I
think the future is dark," Ali told the Guardian.
He said people still
think of the Taliban with fear and hatred – "They are only supported in
rural areas, and even there it is because people are ignorant" – but there
are signs of a new conservatism more generally. "In Kabul I see a lot of
young men growing their beards and going to the mosques. It is not like they
are supporting the Taliban; they have become more religious just for Islam
itself. There is no alternative for these young people – the government is failing
them, the foreigners are failing them, so there is nothing left to embrace
except for Islam."
Ali said that one should
not "be fooled by the cool kids in designer clothes".
"They have all the
style, they use iPods, and maybe they buy Mac computers, but they are still
very religiously minded."
Dr Sajid Abbasi, 35, a
nephrologist in Pakistan's capital, Islamabad, told the Guardian:
"Religion is more important and vital than before. There are people trying
to promote the idea that Islam is a terrorist religion. We need more commitment
and attachment to the religion so we can stand against those people."
For Saadine Lamzoua, 25,
a Moroccan journalist in Rabat who watched 9/11 unfold on al-Jazeera, religion
has become more important in his life. "It gives me a sense of belonging
to a very large community and brotherhood with people from different countries
and races with whom I share the same faith," he said.
As ever, the situation is
complex. Maryam Zaweej, 28, is a Pakistani aid worker. Her view of Islam,
however, has changed little during the decade and described her religious
commitment as "mediocre". Zia Akhtar, the Pakistani mechanic, said
for him, "Islam remains the same". He did not fast during the holy
month of Ramadan and does not regularly attend a mosque: "Sometimes I go,
sometimes I don't." He shrugs.
On the perpetrators
Then there are the
conspiracy theories. These are not limited to the Islamic world but, Wikes
said, year by year they are becoming increasingly prevalent among Muslim
communities.
Among the students
gathered by the Guardian at Jamia Millia university, more than half did not
accept the "official version". And the conspiracy theories span
social strata: in Saudi Arabia, a wealthy female university lecturer and a
44-year-old male labourer both said it was "too early to be sure" who
was responsible for 9/11. Neither wanted to be named. "It can't have been
Arabs. You need a powerful organisation to do that. And you have to look to see
who has gained the most benefit," the lecturer said. A Moroccan
businessman, Nourdean, 57, and Selma Batenang, 47, a drinks seller in Jakarta,
Indonesia, described al-Qaida as "puppets".
And Aprienengseh, the
Sumatran teacher, said the fault lay with "someone else trying to make
war, create problems between Christianity and Islam".
On the future
Egyptian democracy demonstrator in Tahrir square,
Cairo.
Photograph: Ben Curtis/AP
|
Ismail Gad, 41, an
Egyptian clothes shop owner, said his life had improved during the decade.
"I'm now married, I have two kids, and Egypt has had a revolution.
Terrorism seems [now] to have been reduced and in many ways things feel safer
and more secure."
For most interviewees
the focus is simply on the gritty business of getting through life.
Zaweej, the aid worker,
is worried about the economy. "We have gone down financially, and our
politicians are so corrupt. Hopefully in the next election better people will
be elected, and foreigners will start investing here again." For Akhtar,
the mechanic, "if business is good, then everything is good".
Personal events and
problems loom larger than geopolitics. Asked what major events she remembered
from the decade, Aprienengseh, the Indonesian teacher, listed 9/11 but also the
2004 tsunami and her boyfriend's death a year later.