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civil society

I hope today can feel like a new day. I am up early, blinds drawn, sipping coffee from my favorite mug, the sun peeping over the foliage outside my window and landing on my tired face. I slept fitfully last night, woken by sirens and the sound of a helicopter hovering overhead. I wondered who they were looking for, whether that person was afraid and if they needed somewhere to shelter.

Shelter is such a simple yet powerful word. It is what we have been doing for three months now in the face of a virus. It’s what we stand under to protect us from the rain, wind, sun as we wait for a bus to take us where we need to go. It’s an act of kind offering to let someone into our homes when they are in need – come in, be warm, have my friendship.

I was moved by the story of Rahul Dubey, a DC resident who was sitting on his stoop on Monday night when protesters were cornered, police advancing on them from either end of his small street. He didn’t just watch – he saw their plight, the fear in their eyes as they contemplated their fate in the hands of police officers after the curfew had fallen – and he acted. He opened his home to 70 strangers. He gave them shelter. He ordered pizzas, he helped them to wash the tear gas from their eyes, they no doubt left the next morning rested and ready to continue their mission.

Shelter isn’t just practical – it’s emotional and spiritual. I’m sure his actions gave those 70 young people hope; hope in the inherent goodness in most human beings, hope in solidarity, hope in how society can be.

When I myself have offered shelter my overwhelming emotion has been frustration – that I could not do more. I’ve sat with wives facing demands they cannot meet from terrorists holding their husband hostage, mothers watching along with the rest of us a video depicting their child’s murder, casually and callously uploaded to YouTube by their captors.

What I have come to understand is just how simple yet powerful shelter is. It is the smallest and most heartfelt acts of kindness that are most gratefully received; listening, being present, trying to understand, finding a way to laugh at the appropriate moment to allow a vital temporary release of pent up energy. And asking for nothing in return.

I have found the last few days terrifying, confusing and also uplifting. I watched as protesters of every color, creed and background took to the streets to protest the murder of George Floyd, who died with his neck under the knee of a police officer. They took to the streets for George, for those who died before him, in the hope that no one would have to die or suffer in the future. They took to the streets because they want this to end. I have been moved by their bravery. On Saturday, we stood and watched hundreds of cars drive past our apartment building on the corner of Maine and 6th in SW DC, honking their horns, protesters spilling out of every window and sun roof with fists raised and banners flapping in the wind.

I was surprised by my own reaction – tears formed in my eyes, my arm lifted, self-consciously at first yet with passion and conviction soon enough. In the face of what these young people were fighting for, the very least I could do was raise my arm in solidarity.

I have watched in horror at the violent fringe of riots and looting – the stores in my old home neighborhood of Georgetown smashed, the contents plundered, often discarded on the sidewalk as an afront to the hard work and industry that went into their production. As if our communities weren’t suffering enough after three months of imposed sheltering, small business owners and shop workers about to return to work following the relaxing of lockdown must surely be heartbroken as they clear up this mess with the sound of broken glass crunching under their feet.

These thugs and fools not only bring destruction to communities, they sully the protesters and their cause as so many people fail to distinguish between the two.

And then on Monday night I watched the President send in the military to clear peaceful protesters with tear gas and rubber bullets to make space for him to visit St John’s Church for a photo op holding a bible.

In the preceding speech, he declared himself the President of Law and Order, name checking second amendment rights, threatening to overrule governors by imposing force and declaring a nebulous grouping a domestic terrorist organization.

I watched his speech with terror in my heart; these are the words and sentiments I have heard spill from the mouths of tyrants in “other” countries. With him on my television screen – his bile, hatred and division – my home no longer felt like my shelter.

On autopilot, we put on our shoes and went outside, standing on the same corner we had watched the protests on Saturday. At first we stood in silence side by side. I felt my eyes fill again with tears of worry. I instinctively turned to Paul and asked him to hold me. We stood like that for a long 10 minutes without saying a word.

When we came back in, I reached out to friends; I needed to connect. One immediately replied to ask if we could talk. It wasn’t enough to text, we needed to see one another’s faces, share our feelings, listen, check we really had heard the same thing. “This is what your family fled Poland for in the last century”, I said to her. She nodded slowly and silently. We took shelter in our friendship and one another.

As I lay in bed last night, listening to the sirens and wondering who was out there, who was worried about being picked up, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach about where this goes, where this ends. I did not feel immediately worried for my own safety, but I had a deep concern about the implications of what I heard and saw on Monday night.

I was reminded of Martin Niemoller’s powerful words:

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak up
Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak up
Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak up
Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak up
Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

On Monday afternoon, I spent an hour or so collecting together the examples of leadership I’d seen from governors, police chiefs, rappers who gave me hope. Leaders of compassion and connection, using their titles, offices and privileges as a platform for good rather than a barrier to shelter behind. I needed to do this to remind myself of the goodness in the face of division and despair. Erika Shields, Atlanta police chief who came down and spoke to protesters and heard their anger. Genesee County Sherif, Chris Swanson, who asked the protesters what they wanted and when they said “walk with us” he did. Killer Mike, a rapper who cried in pain and told his fellow Atlantans to plot, plan, strategize, organize and mobilze. Atlanta Mayor, Keisha Lance Bottoms, who talked to her city as a mother and and told the rioters to go home.

There is a reason their words and actions have gone viral – we need them. Just like Rahul Dubey’s quiet act of leadership on Monday night, their leadership offers us the shelter we need right now. Just like him, the shelter they offer brings us hope – hope in the inherent goodness of most human beings, hope in solidarity, and hope in how society can be.

As we wake scared in the night to the sound of sirens; as we watch the news worried about our cities, our young people, our cohesion; let’s ask ourselves what can I do to offer shelter? Shelter – physical, practical, emotional and spiritual – is our most important currency in these difficult times.

Three weeks into my Quarter Gap Year, everything about Julia Hobsbawn’s new book appeals to me: The Simplicity Principle: Six steps towards clarity in a complex world.

It’s the book for our times and Julia walks us through the data; we pick up our smartphones 80 times per day or roughly every 12 minutes, we are on the internet six hours per day or one-third of our waking time, and being ‘on’ 24/7 is the norm at work. All this when we know the human brain cannot hold more than about seven things at any given time and research shows that it takes 23 minutes and 15 seconds to regain attention and focus after being distracted.

It’s not surprising that over 15 million working days were lost to stress in the UK last year, stress costs $300 billion annually to the US, and – sadly – the WHO reports one death from suicide every 40 seconds. Our lives are too complicated for us to keep up with ourselves, let alone the Joneses. [For more on these refs, read the book!].

Having spent the last five years relocating from the UK to the US, standing up a new nonprofit and building it to the point of it having a solid year’s worth of running costs in the bank (handy during a global pandemic), I know all too well the picture being painted here: always on, constantly multi-tasking, dozens of plates spinning, pressure to succeed, and no social support structure. The ends are hugely rewarding, but the means to get there have taken a toll.

Lucky for me, I’m in a position to take a break, step back and reassess my priorities. So while it’s most definitely the book for our times – it’s also come at just the right moment for me.

Julia outlines six sides of a hexagon which together encapsulate the six sides of simplicity: clarity, individuality, reset, knowledge, networks and time. Each has six ideas within it, which come with six fixes or takeaways and calls to action.

I can’t say the narrative structure of the book worked for me – bees, hexagons, nature – but that doesn’t detract from the central idea and the practical suggestions about how to incorporate the simplicity principle into your own life.

Here are the key things I’ll be building into my life:

Clarity:

  • Minimize the number of decisions you have to make and make them swiftly
  • Take a technology break at a regular time each week
  • Say no much more than you say yes
  • Declutter and have a designated place for everything

Individuality:

  • Distinguish between your online and offline identities
  • Pay attention to place – where you live, work and your journey between the two are critical to have you live and work

Reset:

  • Make sleep a big priority
  • Find ways to switch off, whether through meditation or more active ways that take you out of your day to day
  • Seek out a change of scene regularly
  • Spend time in nature
  • Make time for fun in your life

Knowledge:

  • Always bring what you know already to new situations – it’s your wisdom
  • Focus on your soft skills
  • Use a Knowledge Dashboard to streamline the information you receive
  • Don’t have too many things to focus on at once

Networks:

  • Make time for face-to-face
  • Organize how you communicate with someone according to the quality of the relationship
  • Approach networking as a relational activity, not a transactional one
  • Create social capital by being part of communities
  • Create small intimate gatherings and generally avoid large conferences
  • Identify your ‘social six’ – the people who really matter to you

Time:

  • Don’t do deadlines unless you’ve set them yourself
  • Keep control of your calendar and be intentional about how you spend your time
  • Organize your day in the way that makes most sense for you and your body clock
  • Don’t bother with offices unless you have to

I’d recommend this book to anyone asking themselves why life seems relentless, whether it could be different, and how to get started. It’s a great read, much more accessible than your typical ‘self-help’ book, and offers a practical roadmap for how to make change happen.

Duty and obligation are two words that have dominated my life. They are, of course, virtues; doing your duty is better than shirking it, fulfilling obligations preferable to abandoning them. According to the dictionary, they have both legal and moral imperatives.

Duty: a moral or legal obligation; responsibility
Obligation: an act or course of action to which a person is morally or legally bound.

It’s the morality bit that make duty and obligation highly subjective and open to interpretation; some of us assume far more than our fair share, while others restrict their efforts to the more measurable realm of “responsibilities”.

After stepping down from a decade and a half of work running two non-profits that support hostages and their families – where duty really is the watch word – I’ve been reflecting on my own approach; the balance between duty to oneself and other people; the distinction between real and imagined duty; and the corrosive impact of self-fabricated duty.

Duty to self

The oxygen mask has become a clichéd symbol of the wellness world; fit your own oxygen mask before helping others. It’s become a shorthand way of saying that you can’t help others unless you first help yourself, and it’s certainly a phrase I’ve used in training volunteers working with former hostages. For those of us at the far end of the duty spectrum, self-care is justified as a means to caring for others.

That was my line until recently; I’ve been uncomfortable with the wellbeing thing all my life, whether taking the time and effort to cook and eat well, prioritizing exercise, making space for meditation, or carving out opportunities for creativity. Too often, I’ve worked late and missed family life, scheduled back-to-back work trips rather than putting my need for routine first, drunk wine to keep a friend company when I would prefer a sober evening, or agreed to early morning calls rather than saying no for the sake of a good night’s sleep.

What they don’t tell you in the airline safety briefing is that you’ll only have time to put on one mask before you pass out due to the loss of oxygen. It’s not self-care to allow you to then care for others; it’s self-preservation or die.

As I take a few months for myself, I know I’m late to the game on this. For the first time in my life, my days are focused on my health and wellbeing; I exercise and meditate every day, I cook from scratch, I’m scheduling time for things I love to do – reading, photography, calls with family and friends, fresh air and lots of sunshine. It’s an absolute revelation; it’s not just the feel-good endorphins, it’s the joy of prioritizing my day around my health, and then working out whether and how other tasks will fit around it.

Duty to yourself is the most important duty of all

I’m not doing this because it will make me a better wife, daughter, friend, although I have no doubt it will. I’m doing it because it will make me a better me – happier, healthier, calmer, fitter. Duty to yourself is the most important duty of all.

Real versus imagined duty

After duty to self comes duty to others. How much? To whom? Why? If, like me, you have boundary issues, you might imagine duty beyond where it exists. Close friends for years have lovingly rolled their eyes and reassured me it’s ok to say no. I didn’t listen. Net result: over-extended, assuming others’ responsibilities and blurring the lines between colleagues and friends.

Only recently did I step back, see they were right, and adopted a rather formal system for categorizing the people in my life: close family, close friends, friends, people you spend time with, close colleagues, and your wider professional network. For each group, I classified the time and effort appropriate for the relationship. It has counteracted my in-built ‘duty alarm’, helping me to shift the balance to my nearest and dearest.

We should give 80 per cent of our time to the 20 per cent of people who bring 80 per cent of the joy to our lives

If someone hasn’t said this already, allow me: we should give 80 per cent of our energy to the 20 per cent of people who bring 80 per cent of the joy to our lives. I’ve come to appreciate that the smaller my circle, the richer my life. I only owe “duty” to my inner circle. Outside them, I have responsibilities, usually codified in a contract or a quid pro quo.

Self-fabricated duty

The most corrosive duty of all is that which we impose on ourselves for no good reason. During an especially tough time at work, I sat down to figure out what was wrong. Honestly wasn’t the bestpolicy – it was the only. Things really were that bad. Taking out a large piece of paper, I jotted down all the thoughts, frustrations, challenges and gripes I could think of – it was painful reading.

One phrase jumped off the page – “I always think I am the only solution to every problem.”

I didn’t mean this in a narcissistic way; it was due to a lack of self-confidence rather than a big ego. I was afraid to ask for help because I thought everyone expected me to have the answer and would think I was a failure if I couldn’t fix things on my own. Instead of reaching out, I became the martyr and victim. I was stuck.

A linguistic tweak was all it took; instead of asking myself “how can I solve this?” I started asking my colleagues and board members “what are we going to do together to overcome our problem?” It was transformational; it altered my perception of the situation, helped others to see the problem and their responsibilities, signaled a wider effort was needed, and ultimately created better and more sustainable solutions. It turns out no-one ever expected me to have all the answers; I had fabricated a duty that didn’t exist.

Instead of asking myself “how can I solve this? I started asking my colleagues and board members “what are we going to do together to overcome our problem?”

Duty and obligation are valuable concepts that encourage us to think beyond contracts towards a more holistic social covenant that can generate pride, morale, self-worth and tremendous public and private good. But beware imagined and fabricated duty – and don’t forget that your first and most important duty is to yourself.

Events over the past week have offered a sobering reminder of the risks to journalists around the world. They started with the murder of James Foley in Syria, the video of which closed with a threat to the life of fellow journalist and hostage, Steven Sotloff. Our spirits were raised somewhat yesterday with the news that Theo Curtis, held since 2012 by Al Nusra, had been freed. But scores of other journalists remain captives around the world; in the last year alone, there has been a 129 per cent increase in the number of journalists kidnapped worldwide.

Security risks for journalists

The latest figures from Reporters Without Borders show the whole picture of violence and security risks facing journalists. This is what 2013 looked like globally:

  • 71 journalists were killed
  • 826 journalists were arrested
  • 2160 journalists were threatened or physically attacked
  • 87 journalists were kidnapped
  • 77 journalists fled their country
  • 6 media assistants were killed
  • 39 netizens and citizen-journalists were killed
  • 127 bloggers and netizens were arrested
  • 178 journalists are held in prison

The regions with the most number of journalists killed in connection with their work were Asia (24) and the Middle East and North Africa (23). 39 per cent of these deaths occurred in conflict zones – Syria, Somalia, Mali, the Indian province of Chhattisgah, the Pakistani province of Balochistan and the Russian republic of Dagestan.

The five deadliest countries for the media were Syria, Somalia, Pakistan, India and the Philippines.

The overwhelming majority of victims were men (96%) and there was an even spread between print, radio and TV journalists.

Security risks for aid workers

Journalists are not alone in facing a sharp rise in security risks around the world. Last week, Humanitarian Outcomes published its annual Aid Worker Security Report. It made for sobering reading; 2013 set a new record for violence against civilian aid workers, with 251 separate attacks affecting 460 aid workers.  This is what 2013 looked like for the humanitarian community:

  • 155 aid workers were killed
  • 171 aid workers were seriously wounded
  • 134 aid workers were kidnapped

Like journalists, the threat to aid workers is increasing at an alarming rate; in the decade since 2003, the number of aid workers killed has increased by 78 per cent, injured by 249 per cent, and the number kidnapped has grown by a staggering 1814 per cent from 7 to 134 last year.

Violence against aid workers occurred in 30 countries, but three quarters of all attacks took place in just five settings: Afghanistan, Syria, South Sudan, Pakistan, and Sudan. Somalia finds itself outside the top five for the first time in many years, but the reduction of incidents in the country is a result not of growing stability, but because the situation has become so bad. 2013 saw the wholesale withdrawal of Medicins Sans Frontieres from Somalia after 22 years of operating there.

Most victims (87 per cent) were local staffers, but international personnel who account for approximately 8 per cent of humanitarian staff in the field were overrepresented as 13 per cent of victims.

The security challenge for media and aid organisations

It is obvious that journalists and aid workers – who for many years enjoyed safe passage through conflict zones – no longer enjoy these privileges in some places. The people of countries, such as Syria, Pakistan and South Sudan need their help more than ever, but they are less able to perform their vital roles.

It is imperative that organisations sending local or international staff and freelancers to such places enact the necessary security measures needed to keep their people as safe as possible. Reporters Without Borders is lobbying the UN to amend Article 8 of the International Criminal Court’s statute amended so that “deliberate attacks on journalists, media workers and associated personnel” are defined as war crimes. And when – inevitably – things do go wrong, it is vital that victims and their families and colleagues get the practical and psychological support they need to respond to what has happened.

 

 

It doesn’t matter what side of the political divide you are on, how you judge history, or whether you are for a two-state solution or not. The effects of conflict on the children of Gaza are heart breaking.

In an excellent article for the Guardian yesterday, Harriet Sherwood gives us the statistics: in less than a month, at least 447 children killed and 2744 injured, according to the UN. And in a tiny area the size of the Isle of Wight with a population of 1.7 million where 43.5% are aged 0-14 years and two-thirds are below 25 years, there are literally hundreds of thousands of babies and young children terrified on a daily basis by the conflict and destruction unfolding around them on a daily basis.

Any child above six years old in Gaza has now been exposed to three wars: Operation Cast Lead in 2008-09, Operation Pillar of Defence in 2012 and the current Operation Protective Edge.

After the first of these wars, a study by the Gaza community health programme found that three-quarters of children over the age of six were suffering from one or more symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), with almost ten per cent exhibiting every symptom. This included sleep disturbances, nightmares, night terror, regressive behaviour, bed wetting, becoming more restless and hyperactive, refusal to sleep alone, overwhelmed by fears, and heightened aggression. A study by the UN following Operation Pillar of Defence in 2012 found that 82 per cent of children were either continuously or usually in fear of imminent death, 82 per cent felt angry, and 97 per cent felt insecure.

We all know that the conflict in Israel/Palestine is long, complicated and fraught with difficulties. Both sides blame one another for the death and terror facing children in Gaza. And Israelis call for understanding about the terror they face, too. So, what does that mean? Where does that leave us?

I don’t care for complex political arguments when babies and children are dying and being terrorised, whatever the reason, whoever is to blame. ‘Complicated’, in my experience, usually means inertia, inaction, and the continuation of ‘business/conflict as usual’.

In the short term there are some glimmers of hope – the current ceasefire seems to be holding up, allowing desperately needed humanitarian assistance to be delivered. Talks between both sides have at least not yet broken down.  The UN is stepping up to the mark, offering international leadership. While all this is to be welcomed, we simply can’t return to the same old stalemate.

It’s time to abandon ‘complicated’ for a simple political analysis of the situation – enough is enough.

A report on the Today Programme this morning spoke to young women in Luton thinking about travelling to Syria. So, are there more women travelling? What will they do when they get there? And is there anything that can be done to prevent them leaving? How does this challenge relate to the wider goals of prevention in relation to foreign fighters in Syria?

The war in Syria

It is now over three years since violence erupted in Syria. The statistics of the casualties are heart breaking. Over 146,000 people have lost their lives – someone dies every 10 minutes. The number of displaced children has more than tripled in the last year from 920,000 to 3 million – every 2 minutes, eight children in Syria are forced to flee their homes, raising concerns for this lost generation that struggles to find food, access to health care or psychological support and is going without schooling. Every minute, 3 Syrians become refugees abroad; 2.5 million have sought refuge outside the country, 1.5 million doing so in the last year alone.

These statistics are not just cold numbers; the growth of social media means that images and videos showing the horror of events on the ground are reaching bedrooms, living rooms and offices across the west. They are affecting us all, breaking our hearts on a daily basis as we see the lives of ordinary families being torn apart. A recent campaign video from Save the Children reminded us of what it would be like to have those horrors closer to home.

Syria as a radicalizing force

It is therefore not surprising that many of us are radicalized by what we see. I, for one, am left angry and heart broken, and wondering what I can do to help. We are frustrated that – yet again – our politicians and institutions are late to the table and full of grand gestures and platitudes rather than workable solutions. While the United Nations commissioned papers and the members of the Permanent Security Council wrangled over the wordings of resolutions, the people of Syria starve, face abuse, live in fear of death, and are forced to flee their homes.

The rise in western ‘foreign fighters’

Growing numbers of westerners are turning their anger into action. They are motivated by a range of things and do not necessarily go to Syria with the express aim of fighting on the side of terrorist groups, such as ISIS or al Nusra. A number of reasons emerge from those who have travelled; a desire to alleviate suffering; a duty to fight to assist Muslims who are oppressed; a desire for action and adventure; engagement in sectarian conflict; and underlying identity issues at home that leave them marginalized and powerless.

According to the ICSR, Western Europeans now represent almost one-fifth (18 per cent) of the so-called ‘foreign fighter’ population in Syria, with most recruits coming from France, the UK, Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands.

A recent report by the Soufan Group stated that, on average, 6 per cent of foreign fighters from EU countries are converts, many are second or third generation immigrants and very few have prior connection with Syria.

The current mobilization is more significant than for every other instance of foreign fighter mobilization since the Afghanistant war in the 1980s. Although conflicts like Iraq, Somalia and Afghanistan went on for much longer, none of those conflicts mobilised as many foreigners as Syria in the same period of time. Indeed, for a number of smaller countries – Denmark and Belgium, for example – the number of residents that have gone to fight in Syria may already exceed the combined total for all previous conflicts.

Women travelling to Syria

There have been growing concerns about the number of women travelling to Syria. Most recently, Zahra and Salma Halane, 16 year old twin girls from Manchester, who are believed to have travelled to Syria.

This appears to be part of a growing and significant trend; almost one-fifth (18 per cent) of those travelling to Syria from the EU are women and the ICSR says that it is monitoring 40 women who have travelled to Syria, including at least 8 who are British.

Most accounts of these women place them as supporting and facilitating the actions of male fighters, whether as wives and mothers – for instance many travel with their husbands, maintaining the home, delivering first aid, or as women wishing to conduct ‘sexual jihad’ of which there have been sporadic reports.

There is less evidence of them performing a combative role, although there are various images circulating online of just that. And we must assume that – now or at some point in the future – it is inevitable that some will perform this function, as women have in other similar conflicts around the world. This is a truth that challenges, not just our age old gender stereotypes, but in particular society’s view of Muslim women as submissive and subservient to men within their homes and communities, something that is rarely a reality for Muslims living in the west.

Prevention is better than cure

Today’s report hears from women who dismiss the role of community leaders in influencing their opinions. These are women who are active media consumers and take their cues from a variety of sources, as we all do these days; most news content is now shared and accessed via social media platforms, such as Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. And research from the Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD) showed that Muslim media consumption habits are similar to non-Muslims, dispelling the myth of segregated consumption patterns.

This means that there is an opportunity to compete to reach young men and women angry about what they see happening in Syria before they make the decision to travel. There have been a handful of attempts to do this. A recent police campaign focused on informing those wishing to travel of the legal implications of doing so, the practical challenges of doing so safely, and offered alternatives for those wanting to make a difference. But the women featured in Today’s piece had not heard of the campaign, highlighting the challenge of getting your message to the right ears and ensuring they hear it. This does not mean we should see the campaign as a failure and give up; rather we should amplify and scale up.

There is also an urgent need to compete with violent extremists for the attention of our young people. Extensive social media analysis conducted by my team at ISD reveals that there is almost no counter-narrative activity occurring online. There is no shortage of talk at expensive international conferences about the need for counter-narratives, but there is very little action. Governments are on safe and familiar ground funding meetings, but struggle to get effective counter-messaging campaigns signed off by risk-averse Ministers.

There are notable exceptions. For example, Abdullah-X has been developed by a London-based community worker committed to pushing back on violent extremist messaging, one of whose most successful videos focuses on considerations for Muslims thinking about travelling to Syria. This 2-minute animation was watched by over 6,000 people in a 6-week pilot campaign, in which ISD was involved in its role as co-chair of the European Commission’s working group on Internet radicalization. At the time of writing, it had been seen over 10,000 times. The next installment is out this week.

Frustrated by the lack of action, my team at ISD has turned itself into a counter-narrative innovation hub, creating content, working with partners to disseminate it to the right audiences, and using social media analytics to understand what works so these lessons can be applied by us and our community-based partners. The Autumn will see ISD launch a major counter-narrative campaign in Canada based on short films telling the stories of individuals touched by violent extremism, and similar campaigns will follow in the UK, Germany and Hungary in 2015. We are also talent spotting creative messengers who will dock into our technology platform to benefit from the campaigns and analytics experience we have built up.

As it currently stands, extremists have won the war of content and ideas online; they are organized, professional and prolific. In contrast, we are patchy, amateurish and unsystematic. If we want those thinking of travelling to Syria to come across a range of competing views, we need to do something about this. And fast. As the young women told the BBC reporter, they do not listen to community leaders.

What to do with the people returning from Syria?

We have still not seen individuals return from Syria in large numbers, and there has only been one documented case of a returnee committing an attack in Europe; a French lone actor who attacked a Jewish centre in Belgium, killing three.

Studies of previous conflicts show that most western jihadists prefer foreign fighting, but a minority do return to commit attacks at home in the west, approximately one in nine. This is a small proportion of all foreign fighters, but means that being a foreign fighter is a high risk factor for becoming a domestic fighter. The presence of foreign fighters also increases the effectiveness of those attacks; the presence of a veteran increases by a factor of roughly 1.5 the probability that a plot will come to execution and it doubles the likelihood that the plot will kill people.

Even when those returning have not fought, there is the risk that the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) will make them vulnerable to radicalization once they return home.

Law enforcement is an essential tool for those returning who have broken the law. It is right that they are arrested and brought to justice, where they have joined terrorist groups to fight or been involved in the facilitation of those networks and their activities. But used too bluntly, the law will act play into the hands of extremists and will also drive a wedge between the police and communities at a time at which that relationship is critical as an early warning and prevention mechanism to prevent young people from travelling to Syria.

Government must invest in targeted and practical interventions to support those returning who have not broken the law and do not pose an immediate threat, and so will not find themselves within the criminal justice system or under surveillance by the intelligence agencies. These individuals – more likely to be women or those involved in humanitarian relief who are vulnerable to PTSD – need a range of social and therapeutic services to deal with the psychological impacts of their experiences, which might otherwise leave them vulnerable to radicalization and recruitment. Germany’s Hayat programme is an example of how this can be delivered.

Conclusion

The challenge of foreign fighters is of course not new, but the scale and speed of recruitment into Syria is causing concern in countries across Europe. That there appear to be growing numbers of women joining should not be surprising. Less is known about what the women are doing when they arrive, with much focus to date on their role as supporters and facilitators. But we can only assume that they will make their way to the frontline, as they have in many previous conflict zones.

There have been limited attempts to date to prevent young people from leaving. There are notable exceptions, such as those outlined in this article, but we are very much on the back foot and need to act quickly and decisively if we are to stand any chance of making up lost ground. Government agencies need to build bridges with communities and communicate more often and more loudly on the dangers of travel and alternative responses. We also need to get serious about competing for the attention of young people online. As it stands now, the extremists have won the wars of content and ideas online. We need to stop talking and start doing in the realm of counter-narratives so that young people hear from competing views before they make up their minds.

Finally, we need to start planning now for what happens when people start to return from Syria. The numbers far outweigh what we have seen in previous conflicts, which means there is a very real danger of overwhelming our existing services. There is simply not the manpower to arrest our way out of the problem, and putting all returnees under surveillance would bring our intelligence agencies to their knees. We therefore need a range of alternative community-based solutions for those who pose the least risk, both to ensure they do not go on to be a security threat to society, but also to help them return to some semblance of normal life and become functioning members of society here in the UK.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Tuesday, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) turns 50. Formed by Pedro Antonio Marin Marin aka Marulanda on 27 May 1964, they have been embroiled in one of South America’s deadliest battles for control of the land, the people, and the soul of the great country of Colombia.

For decades they have claimed the title of ‘revolutionaries’, fighting for the common man and woman. In reality, they have brought terror and violence to a country that, given its natural resources, should be the success story of the continent.

I have been interested in the FARC for 18 years, ever since my uncle was kidnapped on a road between Medellin and Bogota on his way to work in January 1996. It wasn’t the FARC that held him for 7.5 months, but the ELN, or National Liberation Army. But in the years that have followed, I have interviewed many surviving hostages who were held by the FARC. From what I could tell of their testimony, the FARC was willing to use torture to control the minds and bodies of their captives, more cruelly than anything I ever heard from those who had been held by the ELN.

As the FARC prepares for its birthday party, it will not be the only one wondering if life really does begin at 50. The peace process continues in Cuba, with more optimism than has shrouded the ones that preceded it, but still caution is still the order of the day. Literally billions of US dollars and tens of thousands of boots on the ground have failed to kill off the FARC. Its grip remains on certain parts of the country. It can no longer boast 20,000 members, but it is estimated to be 7,000 strong and enjoy the support of those who rely on it for their protection and livelihood.

The results of today’s Presidential election might have a bearing on whether Tuesday should be a party or a wake for the FARC. President Santos hopes to stay in office and continue the peace talks. His main opponent, Oscar Ivan Zuluaga has threatened to pull the plug on the talks, or at least impose conditions that would render then untenable.

Colombia – yet again – finds itself at a crossroads. And, as usual, peace doesn’t look like the most likely destination.

Here is an article I have with Ross Frenett on HuffPo arguing for the need to invest resources in films, campaigns and digital activities to push back on the messages that violent extremists use to attract young people to travel to Syria to fight. 

Today’s report by the UK Parliament’s Home Affairs Select Committee warns of the alarming number of westerners traveling to Syria to fight and calls for stronger efforts to counter the recruitment narratives of extremists. As Committee Chairman, Keith Vaz, warned “without the Government helping peer-led projects to tackle this problem, many more may be lost to radicalisation.”

Also launched today is a report we have written for the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, (ISD) in which we outline the nature of the problem and what must be done to stem the tide of western citizens willing to become so-called ‘foreign fighters’ in countries, such as Syria, Mali and Somalia. Drawing on research conducted by ISD on the effectiveness of counter-narratives, our own database of suspected foreign fighters, and interviews with members of the Against Violent Extremism who have travelled and fought in previous conflicts, the report offers a concrete roadmap for success in pushing back on the kinds of extremist messages that draw people to places such as Syria to fight.

We define three distinct messengers that need to be countered:

Violent extremist groups: The formal propaganda wings of the armed movements engage with potential supporters, produce propaganda and provide justification for their actions.

Their supporters: There are many associated groups and networks that use their websites, forums and social media accounts to support and encourage the actions of groups that employ foreign fighters, celebrate martyrs and produce large quantities of propaganda. These are, in most cases, more influential than the violent extremist groups; a recent ICSR report found that two of the most influential supporters and cheerleaders for the Syrian Jihad were not even based in Syria, but were in fact western supporters with a strong social media presence.

Individual foreign fighters: Some foreign fighters tweet from the frontline, sharing their experiences; everything from accounts of their daily routines, to reflections on life on the frontline. The most famous example is the late Omar Hammami, an American Jihadist killed in Somalia. Others, such as Abu Fulan al-Muhajir, tweet their experiences from Syria in English.

Just as there is no single profile of violent extremists, there is no one discernible ‘type’ of foreign fighter. From ignorant novices who view the trips as a rite of passage, die-hard militants looking for combat and martyrdom, and individuals who go for humanitarian reasons but get drawn into conflict, individuals become foreign fighters for a range of reasons: boredom; intergenerational tensions; the search for greater meaning in life; perceived adventure; attempts to impress the local community or the opposite sex; a desire for increased credibility; to belong or gain peer acceptance; revenge; or misguided conflict experience expectations.

In response, counter-messages or counter-narratives need to mirror these motivating factors. Based on the types of propaganda that are being used to convince young people to travel, we identify five main areas of counter-messaging:

You are being duped – don’t be taken in by their propaganda: the idea of betrayal is an especially strong and compelling one for young people. This message could focus on how potential recruits are being misled by propaganda for example, images of dead children taken from other places and presented as happening in the theatre of conflict or stories about al-Shabaab’s extensive use of the forced recruitment of children.

We are not all in this together – there are as many divisions as bonds between different Islamic factions. As noted above, the idea of camaraderie and unity is one stressed very often by those groups that utilise foreign fighters. Highlighting the vicious infighting between and within groups could go a long way towards countering this message. This could consist of examples of foreign fighters finding themselves under fire from other Islamic groups rather than the ‘enemy’, or even examples of foreign fighters who were betrayed and murdered in the conflict zone by the very groups they traveled to join. The most famous and powerful example of this is the American foreign fighter, Omar Hammam, who even live tweeted one attempt on his life.

This is not an Islamic struggle – you do not have a ‘duty’ to fight. This could include messages about why fighting is not justified within Islam, why it is not a ‘just war’, and therefore bringing into question the Islamic duty to fight.

You are useless and you’ll get in the way – do something more constructive instead: This message could be unpacked in a number of ways: local fighters explaining that foreign fighters will be a liability on the frontline, and may not be allowed to fight anyway; citizens explaining that their need to protect foreigners will put them in danger; refugees on the indulgence of foreigners wanting to have adventure when there are women and children starving in refugee camps. This message could also give very clear ‘calls to action’: collect money, raise awareness, work for political dialogue, lobby your political representatives, etc.

Conditions on the frontline are terrible – it is not the adventure you are expecting. This message could focus on the reality of poor conditions in these conflict zones, including testimonies from returned foreign fighters, and accounts from journalists or locals on the ground. It could include a ‘call to action’ linked to the adventure motivation, such as volunteering in other Islamic/Muslim majority countries or regions.

The problem of foreign fighters is not new; it goes back to the Spanish civil war and beyond. But the advent of social media opens up multiple new possibilities for direct communication to encourage ever more numbers of young people to respond to a so-called ‘call of duty’.

Social media can also be a tool for good; with concerted efforts and smart campaigns, we too can reach these young people and give them the knowledge to ask the right questions about whether travelling to Syria to fight is the right thing to do. For now, the violent extremists are winning the war of ideas online. It’s time for the counter-messengers to raise their game.

 

 

 

I’m pleased to be chairing an event in London organised by the Forgiveness Project on 28 April where the focus will be on how former extremists can use their own experiences to help tackle violent extremism.

Sharing their own personal journeys of moving away from extremism will be Tony McAleer, a former white supremacist and former organiser of the White Aryan Resistance in Canada and Hadiya Masieh, a former Islamic extremist who was recruited by Hizb ut-Tahrir radicals, until the 7/7 bombings changed her perspective.

I’m a passionate believer that the stories of former extremists are a credible counter-message to extremist propaganda and I’m working to create a global resource of testimonies through my work at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue and via the AVE network we run there.

More information about the event and tickets are available here.

Ed Miliband gave a speech today to the ippr where he outlined one plank of Labour’s new approach to immigration. He acknowledged the need to avoid two dangers in relation to immigration – wishing away the public’s concerns and making promises that can’t be kept.

The  main thrust of his speech focused on the ways in which immigration has impacted on the British economy. He acknowledged that it is also important to recognise its impact on access to resources (especially schools and housing) and the fabric of communities, but limited his comments to the economy.

In short, he argued that at the moment we don’t have an economy where everyone – from top to bottom – feels they are part of a shared project. And that some feel the benefits of globalisation and immigration, while others do not. The dividing line is characterised by class. Interesting to hear a Labour leader using the ‘c’ word again.

He outlined two key problems faced by ordinary people. First, labour standards are not being properly enforced so foreign workers can undercut wages. Second, the influx of low-cost, low-skill migrant labour is making many companies take a short-term, low-skill approach which is resulting in less training and development which brings down the value of work.

He calls for four things:

  • Genuinely effective controls on who comes in and out of the country
  • Enforcement of employment laws to ensure fair and minimum wages are observed and that those companies flouting the law are prosecuted and see their maximum fine at least double from £5,000 to £10,000
  • Recruitment agencies refusing to take British nationals onto their books need to be tackled
  • We need to build a more responsible form of capitalism, and institute an early warning system to identify those parts of the country experiencing rapid and profound change who need additional support

It is encouraging to see a political leader join up debates about immigration and the future of the economy. Too often, these discussions focus on issues of community cohesion and measures of ‘getting along’ as if the deeper structural factors of economy, jobs market, housing, and resources do not matter. Or indeed, that they are not important drivers of poor relations on the ground. Interesting also that Miliband brought the ‘c’ word back into politics. Perhaps this is the first sign of Jon Cruddas’ influence at play…

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