Thursday, February 21, 2019

Decoding Shamima Begum- Anthony Loyd.


Life is trundling along without anything of particular interest to report.
So meanwhile I think this is worthwhile reading: a well-argued article by Anthony Loyd in the Times this morning, (therefore behind a pay-wall) which made me change my mind about Shamima Begum, the Isis bride he interviewed about a week ago in her refugee camp. The decision by the Home secretary to revoke her British citizenship was opportunism, designed simply to pander to the national mood...
                                                                           


Twelve hours before she fell into the eye of a social, legal and political storm, almost nothing that Shamima Begum told me was of particular surprise. Sitting together for 90 minutes, one-to-one, in the yard of the al-Hawl refugee camp that afternoon a week ago, she spoke very much like every other member of a radical Islamic militant group I had ever met.
Her lack of remorse? Her lack of regret? The failure to apologise? Her acceptance of the beheadings of journalists and aid workers?
I was not surprised by any of it, and nor should anyone else be. After four years living in the so-called caliphate, with no access to the outside world beyond that given to her by her Dutch Isis husband, Ms Begum behaved and spoke in the precise and predictable manner of any other indoctrinated member of Islamic State, among whose devotees she still lives at al-Hawl.
To expend anger over her point of view is a waste of energy. To expect different is naive. Over the past 25 years I have met jihadists in Bosnia, Chechnya, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria. They always sound the same.
Moreover, far from being removed from the thrall of the Isis death cult, the young British woman radicalised as a 15-year-old girl continues to live kettled within its confines. Most of the 40,000 people in al-Hawl camp belong to Isis families, and discipline is rigidly enforced there by foreign members of al-Khansaa, the all-female Isis morality police who burn down tents and beat women accused of transgression in the camp.
So not only will Ms Begum’s capabilities for individual thought, reason and feeling have been stunted by spending so long in Isis territory at such an influential age, she also lacks the liberty to speak freely even if she wanted to.
Yet unlike Sajid Javid, the home secretary, who has chosen to surf the national mood of rage towards the former Bethnal Green schoolgirl by revoking her British citizenship, I believe there is every reason to repatriate, investigate and rehabilitate — not banish — Ms Begum.
Aside from the specific legalities and moralities regarding her status as a minor when she entered Syria, buried within the rote-like repetitions of Isis vernacular that she used when speaking to me, Ms Begum also showed traits suggesting she would be an ideal candidate for a de-radicalisation programme.

Shamima Begum was found last week by Anthony Loyd among 40,000 inhabitants of the al-Hawl campGetty Images
Though much of the British media has collaborated with the popular fury, focusing on Ms Begum’s apparent inability to express regret or remorse, rushing to judge her on this basis, in reality the 19-year-old woman displayed considerable evidence of self-doubt and individual thought, despite the constraints of her circumstances.
The details of our meeting need a brief resume, as they were unique, not just for the amount of time and total privacy they afforded, but also because it was her first exposure to the outside world since she entered Syria in 2015; indeed, her first time alone.
We met in a reception room at al-Hawl early last Wednesday afternoon. Ms Begum entered the room in the company of another Isis wife, a Canadian called Amy Lucia Vasconez, 34, the widowed mother of two small boys.
A Syrian camp administrator and two foreign aid workers were in the room, as well as my interpreter. I asked for total privacy to conduct the interview and then left the room with both Isis women and moved to sit with them in a corner of the yard outside. No one else was present. After ten minutes Amy Vasconez also left. I continued speaking with Ms Begum for nearly an hour. She was reluctant at that stage for the interview to be taped, although later she agreed. The last 22 minutes of our conversation was recorded. The preceding hour and the final five minutes were not.
There are methods for interviewing radicals. Disassociation is a prime necessity for the interviewer: there is no point, for example, in allowing emotion or contempt to cloud the interview. I am not there to judge the interviewee. I am there to extract information and measure the likely extent of their radicalisation.

The need to find common ground early in the conversation is another requirement. I met Alexanda Kotey and El Shafee Elsheikh, the two alleged members of the so-called Beatles Isis cell, in a jail in Syria last year. Despite their alleged involvement in torture and murder we managed to communicate over the shared ground of the Golborne Road in west London, near where we all had lived, and so we recapped on fish and chips, police and thieves. Sometimes we laughed together too. At one point I recalled being shot while a hostage in Syria and they cried “sobering, sobering”, trilling with delight.
“How much do you think you’d have been worth if you came into Islamic State’s hands?” Kotey had grinned.
“More than you are now!” I replied and we shared a good laugh at our reversed circumstances, loathing each other all the while.
I certainly did not loathe Shamima Begum. In essence, she was a classic victim turned potential perpetrator: the groomed minor sat before me as a radicalised young adult. Despite her predictable arrogance and didactic manner, her aura was primarily that of a confused and vulnerable young London woman. Most of the time we were together it seemed too that despite her outward composure she was in a state of grief and shock. Alone, frightened, she wanted someone to speak to. All I had to do was listen, coax and engage.
She spoke repeatedly and in anger over her husband’s six-and-a-half month imprisonment and torture in an Isis jail over spying charges. She talked also of the hypocrisy, cruelty and oppression within the organisation.
“I am scared,” she said. “I am so confused. I’m really naive.
“There’s so much oppression and corruption going on [within Isis] that I don’t really think they deserve the victory. Dawlah [Islamic State] has actually killed Muslims. People that have fought for them, they’ve killed. And for what? So you say you kill the non-Muslims and take care of the Muslims, but they don’t do that.”
“My husband said that while he was in [an Isis] prison there were men that had been tortured so badly that they were like ‘I’m just going to admit to being a spy so they can kill me’.”
These are extraordinary remarks for an Isis devotee to make, and suggest that within the mental confines placed upon her by the so-called caliphate there lurks an independently minded young woman who with the right help may be able to emerge from her radicalised state.
Indeed, Ms Begum is likely to be one of the most suitable adult candidates for rehabilitation of the scores of British adults who joined Isis and are believed to be in custody in northern Syria.

From a practical point of security, of course, Britain’s decision not to repatriate its Isis fighters, their wives and children from Syria is nonsensical. It is hypocritical too, as the public policy is a reversal of what has already been going on in private.
Since 2012, the UK has allowed about 400 British members of Islamic State and Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, once al-Qaeda’s offshoot in Syria, to return home. The majority of them have been male fighters. That Mr Javid has now chosen in public to revoke the citizenship of a young woman from Bethnal Green who was indoctrinated by Isis as a minor is an opportunistic decision made purely to pander to national mood, and has no foot in national security considerations.
Indeed, if the home secretary were to make his decisions based upon security, then he would push for the prompt repatriation from Syria of every single British Isis member, including Kotey and Elsheikh. The current situation, whereby more than 900 foreign fighters and nearly 3,000 foreign family members from 49 countries are cooped up in camps alongside thousands of Syrian and Iraqi Isis members in one of the most unstable parts of the Middle East is unsustainable; a calamity waiting to happen.
Yet so far, in the week since Ms Begum’s story emerged, little evidence of reasoned, informed consideration and debate has appeared. We would do well to realise that victory against Isis will be measured in no small part by our ability to have the confidence in our own legal system and values in dealing with British citizens who joined the jihadists.
If our institutions and sense of worth cannot deal fairly and appropriately with a runaway schoolgirl from Bethnal Green, who may well be more deserving of rescue and rehabilitation than hatred and condemnation, then we will indeed have become a very little England.

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Tidying up

This week, having finished my floor canvas for the David Parr ‘museum-to-be’ in Cambridge I am behaving like those women of a certain age that appear in several Ingmar Bergman’s films- Fanny and Alexander for one- seen looking through the pictures from their life, arranging photo albums. I am having a long-needed sort out of drawings, pictures and mementoes that have been lying in a heap for a year and a half, since my return from Mali. 

                                                        
I wish I had done more drawings- these are some of the very few I managed to do one day at the Monday market in front of the Great Mosque- I was just too busy doing everything else…
And photo albums from Mali- there simply are none : no album from my life with Keita. There seemed to be enough documentation through the Djenne Djenno blog, but now I think I must make an album for us…
                                                                                
In my rummaging I found Keita’s vaccination certificate. I have one too. It was done at the hospital in Kayes, when we were on our way to Senegal in Keita’s beloved old Mercedes. It was our last holiday together in February 2015. We had suddenly been given the information that it was absolutely essential to organize vaccination certificates in order to be able to enter Senegal. At the hospital they affirmed that they would be able to do them for us, so we waited for a moment, then we were given the certificates, stamped and finished and told to pay something- I believe it was 5000FCFA.  ‘So where do we go now , to have the actual vaccinations ?’ I asked, naively. Keita looked at me with some irritation, as did the medical officer in charge. ‘What ? You have the certificate, don’t you ? We haven’t had any of these vaccines for months.’ …