ISIS Atrocities Started With Saudi Support for
Salafi Hate
ALONG with a
billion Muslims across the globe, I turn to Mecca in Saudi
Arabia every day to say my prayers. But when I visit the holy cities
of Mecca and Medina, the resting place of the Prophet Muhammad, I am forced to
leave overwhelmed with anguish at the power of extremism running amok in
Islam’s birthplace. Non-Muslims are forbidden to enter this part of the
kingdom, so there is no international scrutiny of the ideas and practices that
affect the 13 million Muslims who visit each year.
Last week, Saudi
Arabia donated $100 million to the United Nations to fund a
counterterrorism agency. This was a welcome contribution, but last year, Saudi
Arabia rejected a rotating seat on the United Nations Security Council. This
half-in, half-out posture of the Saudi kingdom is a reflection of its inner
paralysis in dealing with Sunni Islamist radicalism: It wants to stop violence,
but will not address the Salafism that helps justify it.
Let’s be clear: Al Qaeda, the Islamic State
in Iraq and Syria, Boko Haram, the Shabab and others are all violent Sunni
Salafi groupings. For five decades, Saudi Arabia has been the official sponsor
of Sunni Salafism across the globe.
Most Sunni Muslims around the world, approximately
90 percent of the Muslim population, are not Salafis. Salafism is seen as too
rigid, too literalist, too detached from mainstream Islam. While Shiite and
other denominations account for 10 percent of the total, Salafi adherents and
other fundamentalists represent 3 percent of the world’s Muslims.
Unlike a majority of Sunnis, Salafis are
evangelicals who wish to convert Muslims and others to their “purer” form of
Islam — unpolluted, as they see it, by modernity. In this effort, they have
been lavishly supported by the Saudi government, which has appointed emissaries
to its embassies in Muslim countries who proselytize for Salafism. The kingdom
also grants compliant imams V.I.P. access for the annual hajj, and bankrolls
ultraconservative Islamic organizations like the Muslim World League and World
Assembly of Muslim Youth.
After 9/11, under American pressure, much of
this global financial support dried up, but the bastion of Salafism remains
strong in the kingdom, enforcing the hard-line application of outdated Shariah punishments long abandoned by a
majority of Muslims. Just since Aug. 4, 19 people have been beheaded
in Saudi Arabia, nearly half for nonviolent crimes.
We
are rightly outraged at the beheading of James Foley by Islamist militants, and
by ISIS’ other atrocities, but we overlook the public executions by beheading
permitted by Saudi Arabia. By licensing such barbarity, the kingdom normalizes
and indirectly encourages such punishments elsewhere. When the country that
does so is the birthplace of Islam, that message resonates.
I
lived in Saudi Arabia’s most liberal city, Jidda, in 2005. That year, in an
effort to open closed Saudi Salafi minds, King Abdullah supported dialogue with
people of other religions. In my mosque, the cleric used his Friday Prayer
sermon to prohibit such dialogue on grounds that it put Islam on a par with
“false religions.” It was a slippery slope to freedom, democracy and gender
equality, he argued — corrupt practices of the infidel West.
This tension between the king and Salafi clerics
is at the heart of Saudi Arabia’s inability to reform. The king is a
modernizer, but he and his advisers do not wish to disturb the
270-year-old tribal pact between the House of Saud and the founder of Wahhabism
(an austere form of Islam close to Salafism). That 1744 desert treaty must now
be nullified.
No comments:
Post a Comment