n her first live interview since joining Islamic State (IS), on ITV’s morning Britain, 22-year-old Shamima Begum made her latest appeal to return to the united kingdom . She is one among over 6,000 minors who became affiliated with IS, but ever since the grainy CCTV pictures emerged of her leaving the united kingdom with two east London schoolmates in 2015, her case has captured international media attention.
Begum’s case first raises the difficulty of accountability of minors who become radicalised. At first, media reporting described the three girls as being “lured” into IS, comparing their childhood innocence to the monstrosity of their recruiters. The then education secretary, Nicky Morgan, wrote to their school saying, “We hope and pray for the safe return of the pupils”. within the rush to elucidate the very fact that young girls could shy away from their lives in Britain to hitch a terrorist organisation, the “jihadi bride” narrative took hold – a catch-all phrase that focuses on girls’ romantic motives.
Yet this term is problematic, because it simplifies, sexualises and stereotypes women’s involvement with the group.
Begum claims that her motivation for joining IS was to “get married, have children and live a pure Islamic life”. However, growing research into women and girls’ radicalisation into IS has revealed varied and individualised motivations, including a desire for belonging, purpose, adventure, ideological fulfilment and even a thirst for violence.
In the terror group’s published articles, marriage and child-rearing were painted as women’s “jihad” and first duty, but this wasn’t the limit of their activism. Women adopted roles as teachers, doctors, bureaucrats and even frontline combatants and officers in IS’s infamous “morality police”. From innocent schoolgirls to “monsters”, these women are now viewed as a reputable security threat.
However, IS’s strict, anonymising female code has left little evidence of individual women’s activities within the group’s territory. In her interview, Begum asserts: “I didn’t do anything in Isis aside from be a mother and a wife … the govt don’t even have anything on me.”
Begum is now demanding the chance to prove her innocence and has renounced her support for IS. For some, this notably includes her “new look”. When she appeared without her hijab and abaya, her interviewers on morning Britain questioned her got to “look western” in an effort to reflect an indoor transformation.
There are two troubling assumptions here. First: whether or not her change in appearance may be a PR stunt, Islamic dress should never be construed as a marker or measure of radicalism. While is remitted that each one women within its territory should wear the complete burqa, this doesn’t , in any way, mean that each one women who prefer to wear the burqa are aligned with IS or support other extremist groups. These garments are items of spiritual dress, not an IS uniform.
Second, this comment normalises a “western” appearance as being without a hijab or other signifier of Islamic faith. It reinforces the discriminatory sentiment that Muslim women don’t belong in western – or here, British – society. The social media accounts of young women and girls who joined IS consistently speak of a scarcity of acceptance, discrimination and overt Islamophobia as reasons for joining the group. Biases in our society that connect radicalisation and physical appearance are easily exploited by extremist recruiters.
In April 2019, IS lost control of its final enclave in Syria, pushing formerly affiliated women and youngsters into secure camps. consistent with latest estimates, the most important of those , al-Hol, is home to over 65,000 women and youngsters , with almost 10,000 foreign nationals housed during a high-security annex. Overcrowding, poor sanitation and limited access to healthcare have resulted in high infant deathrate rates.
All three of Begum’s children are now deceased. Her youngest, Jarrah, died shortly after her arrival at al-Hol. She describes the shoestring medical facilities leaving her feeling that there was “nothing [she] could do to assist him”. Whatever one cares Begum, the loss of those children may be a tragedy. Born into these circumstances, they need paid the very best price for the alternatives of their parents. But while the death of baby Jarrah are often attributed partially to Begum’s visit a warzone, it also could are avoided if he (and his mother) had been allowed to return to Britain.
The UK government’s decision to strip Begum of her British citizenship (asserting that she has claim to Bangladeshi citizenship through her heritage) has sparked controversy. The 1981 British Nationality Act stipulates that a British-born individual can’t be deprived or stripped of their citizenship if they might be rendered stateless. In effect, this suggests that citizenship deprivation can only be deployed against the youngsters of migrant parents or children of dual nationals, leading to what some analysts have highlighted as a discriminatory “two-tiered system”.
Travel to Bangladesh, whether possible or not, shouldn’t be a part of the talk . Begum is/was British. She was born in England and left Britain to hitch IS. Her actions have consequences that are the UK’s responsibility. Leaving her (and others) in makeshift detention centres only increases the strain on already over-burdened Kurdish authorities, the evidence of which is obvious from recent jail-breaks and smuggling campaigns.
Begum has once more become a “poster girl”, this point for demonised former IS-affiliated women. regardless of states’ decisions to repatriate or prosecute their citizens, it’s clear that a lot of women like Begum have endured psychological and physical trauma during childhood and early adulthood. Their cases should be managed sensitively. Sensationalist questioning and stereotyping by media and politicians will hinder prospects for rehabilitation, feed into discriminatory and Islamophobic narratives, and even potentially reignite support for extremism.
Dr Gina Vale may be a senior research fellow at the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation, King’s College London
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