Jihad: A Story of the Others

I was gripped from beginning to end, I cried, I laughed, I was moved and thought-provoked. The Director manages to take an incredibly provoking, sensitive, subject and develop a seamless narrative, with just the right balance of of honesty, gore, humour, candidness, and get down to the bare human needs and emotions that drive people to extremism. The characters quickly become very real, very human and candid, and they are to be commended for participating. The film highlights the most pressing and incredibly important need for human beings in today's western society, and everywhere in fact, to connect and feel a sense of belonging, and ironically, in humanising the problem in this way, offers hope for a better world assuming more people get the message and we address the core underlying issues raised. I would recommend it to anyone who is trying to reach an intelligent conclusion as to why people are joining violent groups such as ISIS, and one by one we make a positive contribution to becoming more connected and accepting as a society.

Or just meet the people who bomb abortion clinics "halfway" to compromise.

Nowhere does it entertain the cold fact that Islam has a problem with modernity, plurality and liberty. It does not mention the surveys that show a MAJORITY of Muslim clerics worldwide today believe in the death penalty for homosexual activity. or that for example a majority of college educated Egyptians believe in the death penalty for converting form Islam or leaving Islam -- that is right, not rural villagers -- but college educated Egyptians.

This idea that the modern world has to respond by compromising with misogynists, superstition or general backwardness is abhorrent.

Jihad: A Story of the Others is a second documentary by Deeyah Khan, following her earlier Banaz: A Love Story--both shown on the UK's ITV commercial network--which shows once again her unique insight into today's globalised world of hyper-diversity, deriving from her cosmopolitan background as a woman of Afghani-Pakistani extraction growing up in Norway, allied to her remarkable individual capacity for human empathy. Deeyah gets beyond the stereotypes of 'the others', purveyed in the media and widely held within majority communities, and in particular explores and explains the tensions within minority communities, including between men and women, as individuals wrestle with the competing and cross-cutting attractions and repulsions of modernity and tradition, power and resistance, finding--and sometimes losing--their way as and how they can. Banaz was a horrific story of an 'honour' killing of a young Asian woman in the English midlands, cast out and killed by members of her family for transgressing conservative and religiously-sanctioned interpretations of women's roles, while facing neglect from the police service to whom she appealed in desperation. Jihad, by contrast, is about marginalised young men who find in violent Islamist groups the constructed certitude of identity and esteem they lack in a world at best indifferent, at worst antagonistic, to them. Some, older and wiser now, reflect on that appeal to Deeyah--interviewer as well as director--as in a rear-view mirror. And there is an extended exchange with a distressed cleric who, in his fundamentalist youth, led some down that path. This makes for compelling documentary television. But from another angle it is an intriguing piece of social-science research. Counter-intuitively, the literature on 'terrorist recruitment' shows there is no significant correlation with poverty and material disadvantage. What Deeyah's film shows is that non-material factors count for a lot more--in particular how such organisations (because of, rather than despite, the sacrifices they demand of individuals who join them) can integrate a fragmented and incomplete sense of self. And there is the specific masculinist aspect: in the face of what they individually see as their 'impotence' to respond to attacks on their ingroup, these young men (as everywhere it principally is) believe that being part of a disciplined armed collective will enable them to turn the tables on their supposedly-infidel opponents. Deeyah has a rare ability to make documentaries which are at one and the same time engaging and popular while making profound and disturbing points. No doubt the next will pack a similar punch--while pulling none.

Jihad: a story of the others is a powerful film about angry young men. Rebellious, frustrated and bored. Feeling socially excluded. Victimised and discriminated against. Marginalised and oppressed.

It's about motivational leaders who inspire a sense of belonging and acceptance. And a 'family' where people develop courage and feel respected. Leaders who inspire violence, even martyrdom. Leaders who can be heroes for rebellious and disillusioned young girls too.

The situation is not new. But the stage changes. Which makes it all-the-more urgent and important to try to understand the mind-set of angry and disillusioned young people.

This is a vital documentary. And Deeyah is the best person to have made the film, as a Norwegion-born Muslim of Pakistani-Afghan heritage who, being high profile, was herself many times a victim of threats and discrimination. And, in addition, she is an excellent film-maker.

From Abu Muntasir - as a young man, a charismatic and fiery Jihadi fighter and preacher radicalising western Muslims, to Yasmin Mulbocus - as a young girl, disillusioned and rebellious, drawn to ideological young men. The camera roles on as, years later, the once radicalised men (and woman) explain why they had been attracted to violent extremism. The interviewees speak openly to Deeyah, which is of course a credit to Deeyah. She allows them to speak uninterrupted, apart from occasional prompts and intelligent questions.

The motivation behind the film is clear, including the reason the once-radicalised participants are willing to speak out. Everyone involved is keen to prevent more young people turning to violent ideologies.

In my youth, in England, the 'enemy' was the 'Irish'. Speaking to Irish friends now, they tell me that, as young people in England, they felt discriminated against and victimised, purely for having an Irish accent or even just an Irish name.

The story is similar. Some English young people turned to support the Irish Republican Army ('terrorists'). Others turned to violent movements such as Class War, the Animal Liberation Front and, at the other extreme, the National Front.

Deeyah's documentary is deeply thought-provoking, sensitively filmed, and hugely insightful. It is also courageous. Courageous of Deeyah to have made it. And also courageous for the reformed radical Muslims taking part - as many viewers will be quick to judge and slow to forgive.

The film ends with a powerful, eye-opening and emotive scene, where Deeyah again keeps the camera rolling. Abu Muntasir, the once radical preacher and fighter, spends some time talking about forgiveness.. Deeyah then asks softly if he's forgiven himself. It seems that's a question he's never thought about. He doesn't know how to reply and, instead, tears well up in his eyes. There is a long silence - but Abu Muntasir's face says it all.

I think the film makes it blatantly clear that we, as a society, need to listen to our young people. If not, then the story will continue in other settings, with other 'enemies' radicalising vulnerable young people and encouraging them to channel their anger and resentment into violence. Which, often, they themselves grow to regret.

Deeyah of course explains it best. Shortly before the closing scene, she says:

"I came to understand that radicalisation is about pain. It's the pain of racism, exclusion from society... Yes, many of them have material comforts but I believe too many of them lead lives of emotional poverty. And what I also found is that people can come out of extremism and rebuild their lives... There is hope and we shouldn't give up. We need to look beyond what divides us and come together to create a society where we all belong."

A vital discussion to have - and Deeyah's film prompts further discussion.

If you don't consider the social consequence of fueling a war, the war may come to kill you. Violence is born of flesh. It doesn't regard who uses it. It is a great evil that comes to steal, kill and destroy. This documentary portrays the learned hatred of years under Islam Law. By the end of the documentary, there is such a "safe space" created, and we actually see the brokenness of man shrouded in shame. Sigh. It broke me. Shame is not the same as guilt. Shame says I am a mistake. Guilt says I made a mistake. If you put shame in a petri dish, it needs three things to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence and judgment. If you put the same amount in a Petri dish and douse it with empathy, it can't survive. The last interview was precious, Deeyah Khan. It was when you asked him if he forgave himself. To see a man in the "rhythm of weeping" over the memories of repressed trauma when the truth of shame is revealed by his sorrow. There is very little needed other than the love of a listening ear that wants to simply hear and understand. I wonder if you are a Christian. It was the question of his own forgiveness that seemed to come only from the spirit.