Why Leave the Radicals?

By Maajid Nawaz

I spent thirteen years of my life as a member of the Islamist party Hizb ut-Tahrir. Thirteen years propagating Islamism and training secret cells. In 1999, after Pakistan acquired a nuclear bomb, I was sent by the global leader of my group to establish Hizb ut-Tahrir in Pakistan. In the year 2000 I was sent to Denmark to create the Danish-Pakistani wing of Hizb ut-Tahrir. In April 2002, whilst in Egypt, my international activities eventually caught up with me. My house was raided and I was taken to underground torture facilities in Cairo. Eventually, I was convicted to five years in prison for my membership to the group. In May 2007, after having served on both their secret national leadership committee and their national executive committee, I resigned my membership of Hizb ut-Tahrir and renounced Islamism as an anathema to Islam.

My journey from prison was not an easy one to make. After all, there were many reasons for why I should not leave, and very few for why I should. The one reason that I could not ignore, the one reason that grew deep inside me till it consumed me with guilt was the realisation that I was abusing my faith for a mere political project. After learning through my studies in prison that Islamism was not the religion of Islam, but rather a modern political ideology, I no longer felt guilty simply for criticising a political system inspired by 7th century norms. I was not going to allow my faith to continue suffering due to the political leanings of 1950’s Arab socialism. Slowly, and alone, I picked apart the last thirteen years of my indoctrination, concept by concept. Ideas that I had once held sacrosanct were unravelling in my mind as crude political deceptions. This was a period of immense psychological trauma, my whole character would have to change, and it could have gone wrong in so many ways. Every moral frame of reference that I had built up in my mind would require re-evaluation. I profess to still not fully understanding how I got through this period for much was holding me back.


Rage was a powerful factor blurring my judgement. Pulling myself away from the anger at what was done to us in prison was mentally exhausting. We were Amnesty International adopted prisoners of conscience, how could Tony Blair holiday to Egypt – paid for by the Egyptian State - for three years running whilst British citizens were being tortured there? How could the world protest the atrocities of terrorists whilst governments behaved in a similar way? Wives had been stripped bare, and tortured in front of husbands. Children had been electrocuted. People would occasionally drop dead in our prison, succumbing to wounds from their torture. Thousands of men had been interned for over 15 years without charge. From those interned, some had in desperation doused themselves in kerosene to set themselves on fire. I witnessed this all. Yet Egypt is the second largest recipient of American aid.

The Islamist narrative of a clash of civilisations – Kuffar against Muslims - echoed ever stronger in my mind. This was a war with no rules. Neo-conservatives had sent the message out loud and clear. The only voice heard was the voice of power, all the more reason for Islamists to seize the reigns of such power.

Abandon Islamism? And join what? Where was that counter-narrative? As an Islamist I enjoyed the backing of thousands of hardened men, many who had died for my cause. Where were the Muslim martyrs of pluralism? Why were the few who spoke out ridiculed or ignored? I would leave a global movement, having been a hero, to become an outcast. I had married into Islamism, all my friends and many family members were Islamists. What would I say to my wife, who waited like a saint for 5 years whilst I was imprisoned for a cause she believed in, only to be told by me that it was now wrong? What would I say to my uncle who – after my recruiting him to Hizb ut-Tahrir - had his back broken in Pakistan’s jails? How would I face my cousin in Pakistan, whose mother died from shock because he was not released from prison despite completing his sentence? I would have to look at these people in the eyes and say: it was all so wrong. I was so wrong. But so what? Why should I be the only one to admit his mistakes? After all, are not both sides steeped in hypocrisy? Is not winning the war more important than truth?

This maxim, I knew, was also subscribed to by some in the left. For them, winning against Capitalism was far more important than who they allied with. So I watched as our ideology gained acceptance and we were granted air-time as Muslim political commentators. I watched on as we were ignorantly pandered to by well-meaning liberals and ideologically driven leftists, how Islamists laugh at their naivety. The critically acclaimed film “Persepolis”, currently showing, acutely highlights this failure of the left in pre-revolutionary Iran. Islamists are intent on replicating such a tactical alliance for the Sunni world. Why renounce Islamism if doing so would mean being denounced as a neo-con by ‘neutral’ non-Muslim critics who lend legitimacy to the Islamist inspired clash of civilisations rhetoric?

I also knew that by renouncing Islamism my hitherto good name amongst Muslim communities, created by their confusion between ideologues and genuine religiosity, would be dragged through the dirt. As predicted, I have been targeted in a highly personal and organised smear campaign. Where Islamist rappers were once sampling my voice on their songs, their supporters were now declaring me an apostate. Such declarations are a necessary prelude for any attempt on my life to be “legal”. Islamist teams of agitators are touring the U.K. with information packs about why my colleagues and I are heretics. When being on the inside provides more social protection, leaving will not come easy.

Soon after the smear campaign, death threats and violent encounters followed. Whilst in Copenhagen, having been recognised by a local drug dealer and supporter of Hizb ut-Tahrir, I was aggressively accused of believing in democracy. Within 10 minutes three cars full of his friends had arrived. I initially suggested standing our ground to talk to them, however, upon being told that they were armed with guns I agreed to quickly depart. This was not in Kabul in the year 2000. This was in Copenhagen in the year 2008. Who would want to face such a backlash alone? Why should I speak against this when I knew that many theologians, and the silent majority, would not be able to stand in support due to such intimidation?

Most Muslims are not Islamists but this organised minority dominates their discourse. Even after leaving the option was there for me to join the silent majority. Islamism has been creeping upon Muslims for over 80 years now, and little has been organised to directly challenge it. Yes, certain Muslim associations have been stressing a tolerant Islam, but this is not sufficient. The good Islamist will merely co-opt that message into his political ideology, as we did. We tolerated the different strands of Muslim theology and we were well disciplined when engaging with non-Muslims. By doing this, our aim was to co-opt everyone into our political goal, regardless of narrow sectarian concerns.

Unless all communities, but especially Muslim communities, do not stand together to reclaim the faith we have no chance of challenging this ideology that has grown amongst us. This means that the double standards in our global human rights record must be addressed. It means, vitally, that the counter-narrative to Islamism must also be readily available. It also means that certain leftists and well-meaning liberals should stop pandering to a global totalitarian religious project, instead preferring principle to expediency. It means, crucially, that normal Muslims need to take a stand by closing their doors to Islamist ‘smear teams’ and by not tolerating the thugs that claim to speak in their name.

Most importantly, this means that Muslim leaders and theologians need to stand firm in the face of this ideological onslaught against our faith. Theologians are especially responsible for leading the Muslim resistance against Islamism. Muslims cannot be expected to do this if Islamism’s twin, Islamaphobia, is also not challenged. Islamaphobes and Islamists have this much in common: both groups insist that Islam is a political ideology at odds with liberal democracy, and hence both insist that the two will inevitably clash. One extreme calls for the Koran to be banned, the other calls to ban everything but the Koran. Together, they form the negative and the positive of a bomb fuse. Some efforts on a joint front to remedy this problem are emerging. Until these efforts gain ground, however, there will be very little for the alone and confused Islamist to come out to.