LITTLEJOHN
ISIS elf ’n’ safety advice
TODAY’s edition of You Couldn’t Make It Up comes courtesy of Islamic state, which has advised jihadists to steer clear of Europe in case they catch coronavirus. IsIs, the terrorist outfit I’ve always called Izal — how appropriate that now sounds — is telling its disciples to ‘stay away from the land of the epidemic’.
According to a new set of ‘sharia directives’ published in the al-Naba newsletter, the virus is a ‘torment sent by God on whomsoever He wills’.
Followers are told to ‘cover their mouths when yawning or sneezing’ and should remember to wash their hands regularly.
Presumably, that’s if their hands haven’t been chopped off already for an earlier transgression of sharia law.
What’s someone like Captain Hook — the former Ayatollah of Finsbury Park, currently serving a dozen consecutive sentences of 999 years-to-life in a remote American supermax penitentiary — supposed to do?
stop picking his nose and dip his prosthetic claw into a tub of swarfega every five minutes?
I’m sorry, I know this pandemic is said to be the most serious threat to public health in our lifetimes, but seriously?
If I’d have written a column claiming that suicide bombers had been warned to avoid Europe to stop them contracting coronavirus before they can blow themselves up, some of you would have concluded I’d finally taken all leave of my senses.
steady on, Rich. You’ve gone a bit far this time, even by your own dismally low standards.
BUT I’m not making up it. This bizarre story appeared on page one of the latest sunday Times. The absurd notion of a bloodthirsty death cult — responsible for the murder, rape and torture of hundreds of thousands of innocent people — issuing elf’ n’ safety guidance to its followers is beyond hilarious.
Heaven knows, we’ve little enough to laugh about at the moment. We should enjoy these small absurdities while we can.
The Izal H.R. department didn’t seem too bothered about ‘best practice’ and risk assessment when they were beheading hostages and setting fire to captives in cages.
At that stage, they controlled a caliphate covering 34,000 square miles of syria and Iraq, from the Mediterranean coast to an area south of Baghdad.
These days, what’s left of Izal is holed up in a cave somewhere, providing valuable target practice for American drone strikes. How the mighty are fallen. Instead of waging holy war, they’re reduced to worrying about the potential effect of coronavirus on their dwindling band of wannabe jihadists.
If they’d had any imagination, Izal would have claimed responsibility for the virus. They could have instructed their jihadists to contract it as soon as possible and become superspreaders throughout the West. Beats the hell out of blowing yourself up on a bus. And if the predictions of mass casualties are to be believed, a lot more effective.
I’ve been trying to imagine the committee meeting which drew up the new guidelines.
‘OK, brothers. We’ve put out a fresh fatwa on President Trump and sent fraternal greetings to our comrades in Afghanistan. Is there any other business?’
‘What are we going to do about the coronavirus, sheikh?’
‘What can we do? It is a torment sent by God on whomsoever He wills, inshallah.’
‘That’s all very well, boss, but we’ve got a number of cells across Europe primed and ready to attack the infidels. We don’t want our brave soldiers getting sick before they can strike.’
‘You have a point, Mustapha. What does the holy Koran say about the coronavirus?’
‘No mention of it, effendi. It is a new disease, said to be more deadly than a dirty bomb.’
‘What does the World Health Organisation advise?’
‘Cover your mouth when yawning or sneezing and remember to wash your hands regularly.’
‘Excellent. Get that posted on the website immediately. And tell our martyrs they must wear their balaclavas at all times, especially when travelling on public transport. We don’t want any of them catching this evil infidel disease. If all else fails, they are to avoid the land of the epidemic until further notice.’
‘Very good, sheikh. Allahu Akbar!’
‘And when you’ve done that, take the Land Cruiser down to Costco in Baghdad. We’re getting low on bog rolls and sanitiser.’
‘Your wish is my command, effendi.’ ‘Oh, and Mustapha. . .’ ‘Yes, effendi?’ ‘Don’t forget to wash your hand . . .’