THE PSYCHOLOGY OF DESTRUCTION INSIDE ISLAMIC STATE IN ITS DEATH THROES
THE CASE OF UK-BORN SUICIDE BOMBER JAMAL AL-HARITH HAS AGAIN HIGHLIGHTED THE SECURITY CHALLENGES POSED BY JIHADIST EXTREMISM. AS THE STRONGHOLDS OF THE ISLAMIC STATE GROUP CRUMBLE, FOREIGN EDITOR DAVID PRATT EXAMINES WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR ITS OVERSEAS
LIKE so many images of its kind, it now has an eerie presence. Sitting inside the 4x4 vehicle and grinning broadly, the driver is seen surrounded by wires and what might be a detonation button. The photograph is said to be the last taken of a 50-year-old man from Manchester who was known at various times in his life by different names.
Born Ronald Fiddler to parents of Jamaican origin, as a Muslim convert he was also known as Jamal al-Harith. Later, however, his fellow jihadists within the Islamic State (IS) group would give him the nom de guerre Abu Zakariya al-Britani. Al-Britani means “the Briton.” This was the name by which he was known when photographed last week before carrying out his suicide car-bombing mission on a military base southwest of the Iraqi city of Mosul.
“The martyrdom-seeking brother Abu Zakariya al-Britani – may Allah accept him – detonated his explosives-laden vehicle on a headquarters of the Rafidhi army and its militias,” read a statement from IS shortly after the attack.
“Rafidha” is a derogatory term for Shi’ite Muslims, who the Sunni Muslim IS considers to be heretics.
The story of Jamal al-Harith is a shocking one on so many levels. Its narrative and bloody end on the battlefields of Iraq has once again highlighted fears over the problems of radicalised jihadists who become foreign fighters for extremist groups like IS and al-Qaeda.
In the light of how he chose to end his life, the case of al-Harith is certainly embarrassing for those who were in the UK Government in 2004 and 2010 and for those whose job it was to assess the security threat he posed between 2004 and 2014.
It was back in 2004 that al-Harith was freed from the US detention camp at Guantanamo Bay following intense lobbying by Tony Blair’s Labour government.
At the time of his release, the then home secretary David Blunkett said: “No-one who is returned ... will actually be a threat to the security of the British people.”
The story of how he came to Guantanamo Bay goes like this: al-Harith said that in 2002 he travelled to Pakistan on a backpacking trip. While there, he paid a truck driver to take him to Iran. The truck was stopped near the Afghan border. Taliban guards saw his British passport and arrested him as a spy.
American troops discovered al-Harith among numerous foreigners held by the Taliban and released him. He was then detained in Kabul by US forces who found his explanations regarding the purpose of his travels implausible. He was arrested as a suspected enemy combatant and transported to Guantanamo Bay, where he was one of nine British citizens detained.
After his return to Britain, al-Harith was paid £60,000 for a joint interview with a newspaper and television network describing his Guantanamo ordeal.
He also launched a compensation claim against the British government after saying British intelligence operatives knew or were complicit in his mistreatment while in detention. That compensation claim, it has been reported, netted him up to £1 million.
But a decade later, in 2014, and despite his high profile, al-Harith was able to travel to an IS-controlled region of Syria, before ultimately carrying out his suicide mission in neighbouring Iraq.
According to figures published by the UK Government last year, about 850 people regarded as a national security concern have gone to become fighters in the Middle East.
Of those, just under half have returned to the UK and approximately 15 per cent are now dead.
Right now it remains extremely difficult to confirm the whereabouts and status of many British nationals in these areas. But as the battles for Mosul in Iraq and Raqqa in Syria rage on, many international experts and policymakers have already begun to focus on what the inevitable defeat of the Islamic State group will mean for Europe and elsewhere.
Across the corridors of power in Brussels there is widespread fear that the collapse of the organisation will lead to a surge in foreign fighters returning to Europe.
“Retaking the Islamic State stronghold in northern Iraq can lead to a scenario in which violent militants would return to Europe … This is a very serious threat and we must be prepared to face it,” warned EU Commissioner for the Security Union, Sir Julian King. Similarly, the EU’s counter-terrorism co-ordinator Gilles de Kerchove has cautioned that Europe would struggle to handle the predicted 1,500-2,000 foreign fighters who may return when IS is finally driven out of its strongholds in Mosul and Raqqa.
In only the last few days, Iraqi forces entered a neighbourhood in West Mosul for the first time since launching a major operation to retake the city from IS that began last October.
The army’s assault takes them from desert and farmland into a densely-packed city, where the hard core of IS fighters, of which al-Harith was one, are expected to put up the fiercest resistance yet in defence of Mosul, the heart of their self-proclaimed caliphate.
That IS and its foreign fighters are under pressure like never before is now certain.
At its peak, IS drew thousands of recruits each month and controlled about one-third of Iraq’s territory, and the foreigners like Jamal-al Harith who poured in from dozens of countries have been characterised as the most diehard fighters.
Slowly but surely, however, IS has lost ground and appeal. Last week, documents detailed in the Washington Post after being discovered by Iraqi counter-terrorism forces in Mosul’s al-Andalus neighbourhood, revealed yet more evidence of cracks with the jihadists ranks.
The files of 14 “problem” fighters from the group’s Tariq bin Ziyad battalion, made up largely of foreigners, told of some who claimed to be sick and did not want to engage in battle. One fighter from France wanted to leave Iraq to carry out a suicide attack at home while others from Kosovo had requested transfers to Syria. Some had just simply refused to fight.
“He doesn’t want to fight, wants to return