Chapter 3 focuses on the figure of the jihadist in the context of the Syrian Civil War. Outlawed as a terrorist by the Security Council and perceived as a security threat in home states, this latest version of the enemy of humanity seems to have nothing in common with previous foreign fighters. The aim of the chapter is to re-inscribe this actor within the longer history of foreign volunteering. It shifts from domestic debates to national courtrooms, showing how the jihadist combatant gets constantly split in two: idealist and fanatic, hero and villain, martyr and freedom fighter. Based on previous images of the foreign fighter, these dichotomies highlight different conceptions of freedom and hence problematize its current conflation with terrorism. The chapter ends with a digression on the laws of war, revealing the persisting cultural bias used against certain foreign combatants through the domestic application of IHL.

Previous studies of Lebanese Salafism have neglected the analysis of the local adaptation of global Salafism to the Lebanese context. This chapter seeks to fill that gap by exploring how Salafism found a foothold in Tripoli in the 1990s and how local repertoires and identities were instrumental in popularizing Salafism among the local poor. Northern Lebanon and Tripoli constituted as the primary cradle of Lebanese Salafism; the Palestinian refugee camps in southern Lebanon constituted as a further Salafi hotspot.

Lebanese Salafi in the Tripoli discourse had distinct characteristics. More pragmatic and more business-oriented than Salafism in other Arab countries, it depended on financial patronage from the Gulf. The Lebanese Salafis’ lack of religious autonomy created an opening for jihadi underground organizations. Although Salafi ideology is important in explaining why males joined jihadi groups in Tripoli, social factors often played an even more decisive role. This chapter explores how jihadi groups could readily gain a foothold in poor quarters, taking advantage of the prevailing informality and making these hiding places for outlaws and armed groups.

Islamic Jihadism has deep ties to National Socialism, both in its history and in its vision of a world that is “purified of the Jews.” Chapter 8 demonstrates the influences of Nazi exterminationist Jew hatred on modern Islamic Jihadism. It should be noted that I use the term Islamic Jihadism to distinguish Jihadists from other Muslims who are not part of this movement. Tracing the path from Hitler to Hamas, the chapter brings out the connections between the antisemitism of the Muslim Brotherhood and National Socialist Jew hatred, with particular attention to the Nazi war criminal Haj Amin al-Husseini. I incorporate primary texts of Jihadist ideologues such as Hasan al-Banna, Sayyid Qutb, Abdullah Azzam, Ruhullah Khomeini, and others. Like the Nazis, but with theological differences, the Jihadists maintain not that all Jews are evil but that all evil is Jewish, to which and that to resolve it there can be only a Final Solution.

Central to a number of manifestations of antisemitism is anti-Zionism, which in our time has become not only intellectually fashionable but morally required: One cannot be deemed morally good without supporting those who are bent on the annihilation of the Jewish state. This is the topic of Chapter 7. Like most manifestations of antisemitism, but although it is one that has the explicit endorsement both of the left-wing elite and of Islamic Jihadists, anti-Zionism is cloaked in the self-righteous garb of moral indignation. Here anti-Zionism is understood as an opposition not to the policies of the Jewish state but to the existence of the Jewish state. The chapter explains how notions of Holy Land and sacred history are tied to anti-Zionism, how anti-Zionism is tied to a contempt for Judaism, and what this has to do with the demonization and delegitimization of the Jewish state. Once again, we find that demonization introduces a metaphysical dimension that will not tolerate any compromise or half-measures. Like most manifestations of antisemitism, but one that has yet distinct from them in that it has become intellectually fashionable, anti-Zionism is cloaked in the self-righteous garb of moral indignation.

This chapter takes up the pursuit of the global war on terrorism, as the Pentagon deploys small teams of Special Operations Forces, who work with CIA professionals and State Department or Agency for International Development officials to contain the spread of terrorist groups in Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. These mini-conflicts focus on counterterrorism operations where the US Green Berets or other SOFs work “by, with, and through” local partners to combat terrorists/insurgents fighting under the banner of Salafi jihadism. They train, mentor, and equip locally recruited fighters to act as force multipliers for the US detachments of between 500 and 700 personnel in each country. Underpinning this form of warfare are high-tech surveillance, along with airstrikes from drones, helicopters, and missiles. American forces have proven to be masters of eliminating key terrorist facilitators, bomb makers, and clerics who foment violent extremism. They have so far kept countries from being overrun by Islamist militants as partially took place in Syria and Iraq in 2014. While cost-effective in sparing America lives and financial expenditures, plus safeguarding the homeland and most allied countries from ravages of major terrorism, the small-footprint operations in remote non-Western lands have incurred rancor from journalists, pundits, and some elected officials. Presidents Barack Obama, Donald Trump, and now Joseph Biden have campaigned and made moves to pullout US forces from what are termed “forever wars.”

This chapter focuses on defectors to Islamic extremist environments, such as Salafi-jihadists. The side-switcher storylines presented here come from individuals who were far-right or far-left extremists before undergoing a religious conversion and continuing their extremist career. Key motives that appear in the narratives in this chapter are a particular fascination with violence and hypermasculinity, as well as the strong desire to belong to a more coherent and stronger collective identity. In addition, one section discusses the psychological similarities and differences between religious conversion and extremist radicalization processes, and the implications of assessing side-switcher storylines. Since the narratives presented by defectors necessarily blend with religious conversation stories, specific side-switching components (such as conflicts in the old group) are usually subordinated. Furthermore, it is noted that almost no cases of defectors from Islamic extremist groups to other forms of extremism could be identified and the potential reasons for this are explored.

Where does the Russian case or, rather, the two distinct periods of terrorism in Russia, stand vis-à-vis the world’s historical waves of terrorism, from the late nineteenth century to the early twenty-first century? What are the key aspects specific to the main types of terrorism in post-Soviet Russia (i.e. terrorism by separatist-Islamist rebels in Chechnya and the broader North Caucasian region in the course of the first post-Soviet decades, and the more recent phenomenon of transnationalised, but home-grown, Islamist terrorism inspired by ‘global jihad’)? How specific are they, compared to typologically similar varieties of terrorism elsewhere? How does the rise and fall of terrorism in post-Soviet Russia relate to the factors of sociopolitical and socio-economic transition, regime type, functionality and legitimacy of state power, public perceptions and transnationalisation, in general and as compared to terrorism in the Russian Empire? How can very low levels of domestic terrorism during the Soviet period be explained? Finally, does history teach us anything? Can any lessons be gleaned from almost three decades of the more recent, contemporary history of terrorism in post-Soviet Russia? Have they been? If so, do they apply to Russia alone or more generally? These are just some of the questions that the angle taken in this volume raises in relation to Russia and that require both its main historical periods of terrorist activity to be addressed.

The Introduction lays out the analytical approach of the book, namely a focus on understanding jihadism at the meso level by examining the behaviors and perspectives of jihadist field commanders. This approach contrasts with macro-level approaches that foreground global doctrines and movements, and also contrasts with micro-level approaches that highlight issues of individual radicalization. The Introduction argues that at the meso level, politics and religion work differently for jihadists than at the macro level. At the meso level, politics is less about implementing one-size-fits-all ideologies and is more about building coalitions and managing relationships, while religion is less about one-size-fits-all theologies and more about generating narratives that explain and give meaning to fast-moving events and improvised decisions. It also provides context for understanding the local and regional dynamics of jihadism in the Sahel and North Africa.