Moral Policing of Gender Norms: Honor-Based Violence as a Mobilizing Factor Towards Militant Islamism

Abstract

Honor culture, in which the virtue of the family—if not community—depends on the “purity” of its female members, enforced through “moral policing” of gender norms to collectively control women’s sexuality and uphold a patriarchal gender order, is a central aspect of both honor-based violence and the Salafi-jihadist culture in militant Islamist milieus. Drawing on interviews with 1) an imprisoned Danish woman convicted of ISIS-related terrorism, 2) a mother of a deceased Swedish ISIS foreign fighter, who herself was previously part of the Salafi-jihadist milieu, and 3) “professionals” (e.g. police officers, social workers and municipal employees) conducted during ethnographic fieldwork in Sweden and prison ethnography in Denmark, this article explores how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor for Western Muslims towards militant Islamism in three distinct ways. First, isolation of Muslim women and children through gender segregation and restrictions on accessing public space to “moral police” gender norms enables the Salafi-jihadist milieu to cement and extend its ideological, religious, and physical control. Second, in an honor culture with intense pressure on men to defend and restore family honor whenever it is challenged, joining ISIS can be perceived as a means to fulfill this obligation, thereby affirming “real” Muslim masculinity and upholding a patriarchal gender order. The deeply ingrained cultural expectations to defend honor can even be exploited by militant Islamist milieus in their recruitment efforts. Third, besides providing a “safe space” where one cannot be persecuted and punished for dishonoring one’s family by leaving it as an unmarried woman, ISIS’s multiethnic diversity and embrace of interethnic marriage can be appealing for someone who wants to escape forced endogamous marriage. Given that honor-based violence strikes at the individual freedoms and rights, thereby undermining liberal democratic values and the rule of law, our article contributes knowledge on the broader threat to democracy from anti-democratic forces in the context of militant Islamism.

Keywords:

• Militant Islamism
• Salafi-jihadism
• honor-based violence
• anti-democratic forces
• gender

For decades, not least since the notable emigration of Western Muslims to the Islamic State in Syria and Iraq (ISIS)¹ beginning in 2014, research has sought to unravel the trajectories of Western Muslims towards militant Islamism, particularly rooted in Salafi-jihadism (i.e. the violent faction of Salafism² espoused by terrorist organizations such as Islamic State, al-Qaeda, Boko Haram, and al-Shabaab). Numerous studies have addressed factors such as the crime-terror nexus, existential attractions of terrorism, religious emotions, social and economic deprivation, and psychosocial aspects.³ This article points to the fact that one factor has been largely overlooked in scholarship: honor-based violence.

In recent years, Swedish and Danish authorities and NGOs have explicitly raised awareness about the intersection of violent Islamist extremism and honor-based violence.⁴ Indeed, there are significant similarities between these phenomena. Honor culture, where the virtue of the family and community depends on the “purity” of its female members, enforced through “moral policing” of gender norms to collectively control women’s sexuality and uphold a patriarchal gender order, is a central aspect of both honor-based violence and the Salafi-jihadist culture in militant Islamist milieus.⁵ The religious expression of Salafism, the mindset that Salafi-jihadism draws on, legitimizes honor-based violence, and Islamist terror organizations advocate and practice honor-based violence.⁶ Nevertheless, empirically based research on the interrelation of honor-based violence and militant Islamism is notably lacking.⁷ Consequently, research based knowledge on how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor for Western Muslims towards militant Islamism is limited. In addition, the ways in which the intersection of these phenomena concretely manifests in the lives and social communities of Western Muslims remains unclear.⁸ Drawing on unique primary data from interviews conducted during ethnographic fieldwork in Sweden and prison ethnography in Denmark, this article aims to address this lacuna by exploring how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor towards militant Islamism. The article focuses primarily on honor culture in the context of Salafi-jihadism because this jihadi-ideology has so far been the most dominant in attracting individuals from Denmark and Sweden to militant Islamism,⁹ and our empirical material pertains to the Salafi-jihadist milieu, primarily ISIS.

The Swedish Security Service’s (SÄPO) latest assessments of the threats against Sweden show not only that the threat of attacks from militant Islamism persists, but also that the broader threat to democracy is becoming increasingly salient, as violent Islamist extremists seek to increase division in society to subvert Swedish society and democracy.¹⁰ The threat to democracy from violent Islamist extremism has also been discussed in Denmark.¹¹ Yet, none of these discussions on the broader threat to democracy encompasses a gender perspective. However, while violent Islamist extremism poses a threat to democracy by targeting the system itself, honor-based violence striking at the freedoms and rights of individuals (e.g. through forced marriage, violent abuse, erosion of gender equality, deprivation of liberty, restrictions on participation in civil society) undermines liberal democratic values and the rule of law.¹² Thus, our article provides essential insights on anti-democratic forces for authorities to develop long-term preventive counter-terrorism strategies against militant Islamism that incorporate a gender perspective and address honor-based violence.

The article starts by clarifying the concept of honor culture as the link between honor-based violence and Salafi-jihadism. It then reviews the previous, yet limited, literature on Islamist radicalization and terrorism that touches on the topic of honor-based violence in the context of Salafi-jihadism. Then we outline our method and materials, before exploring and concluding on how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor towards Militant Islamism.

Honor Culture: The Link Between Honor-Based Violence and Salafi-Jihadism

Salafism, which is not in itself violence promoting, is a monotheistic religious direction within Sunni Islam that originates in the nineteenth century.¹³ Salafis are united by a common creed requiring strict adherence to the concept of tawhid (the oneness of God), meaning that there is only one legitimate religious interpretation of Islam; Islamic pluralism does not exist.¹⁴ Salafism is a nostalgic movement advocating for progression through regression and the resurrection of the past purity and glory of Islam in its golden age.¹⁵ Salafis believe that by strictly adhering to God’s commands and guidance in the Qur’an and Sunna, thereby following the Prophet Muhammad and the first generations of virtuous forefathers of Islam in the seventh to the ninth century, they can eliminate the biases of human reason, logic, subjectivity, self-interest, and desire, and in doing so “return” to the “pure” and “authentic” Islam.¹⁶ Salafists reject all man-made things and ideas (e.g. democracy, secularism, multiculturalism, democratic institutions and laws, and cultural products), and in particular late-modern gender values and phenomena such as sexual freedom, dissolution of traditional family forms, gender equality, the culture of pleasure, homosexuality, etc.¹⁷ Instead, the Caliphate is described as the ultimate good society, where sharia law (i.e. God’s law) reigns.¹⁸ Salafism’s foundation and worldview are strongly patriarchal and collectivist, and honor is a fundamental part of Salafism’s claim to moral justification.¹⁹ The world is strictly divided into two spheres: that of pure Islam and that of the rest.²⁰ Thus, everything perceived as deviation, change, or religious innovation is considered sinful and must be fought.²¹ It is of paramount importance to keep Islam cleansed of un-Islamic influences, and “impure” acts legitimize the exercise of hisba, which is a general term for the concept of “commanding right and forbidding wrong.”²² Salafists strictly adhere to the rules of their moral code of what is considered halal (allowed) or haram (forbidden), which regulates behavior, actions, social relations, and personal appearance (dress and the covering of certain parts of the body such as hair, face and hands).²³ Salafism, the mindset that Salafi-jihadism draws on, legitimizes honor-based violence, which is advocated and practiced by Salafi-jihadist terror organizations.²⁴ It is considered the duty of every single Muslim to be observant of other Muslims’ lives and guide his/her fellow Muslim to “return” to the path of Allah and the “pure” Islam, just as one is expected to turn away from non-Muslims or try to convert them through missionary work (da’wah).²⁵ An essential feature of Salafi-jihadism is the use of takfir, i.e. the declaration of other Muslims who are not considered “real” Muslims as infidels.²⁶

Honor-based violence is not a phenomenon that in itself is “Islamist,” “Muslim,” or even religious. Honor culture is socially constructed perceptions within specific collectivist and patriarchal milieus in different social and cultural contexts and is not limited to a specific region, religion, culture, or ethnicity, just as it can also be present in non-religious contexts.²⁷ However, given this article’s focus on the intersection of honor-based violence and violent Islamist extremism in terms of Salafi-jihadism, the focus here is on the specific form of honor culture that originates in the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and South Asia.²⁸ In this perspective, honor-based violence involves families, kinship groups, or communities using power and coercive control in preventive regulation or even sanctioning of the behavior of group members who (potentially) deviate from prevailing gender norms and sexual behavior with the aim of preserving or restoring family honor within patriarchal gender order.²⁹ Thus, in this context, honor-based violence is carried out with the assistance of a collective that extends beyond family and kinship groups to include broader ethnic and religious communities.³⁰ Joseph has employed the concept of patriarchal connectivity to elucidate how individuals in Arabic honor culture are socialized to perceive themselves as intricately linked to others, i.e. one’s sense of self (e.g. identity, integrity, dignity) is intimately and relationally tied to the actions of others; individuals are connective rather than separate or autonomous.³¹ In honor culture, the family holds greater value than the individual, as “individuation,” “autonomy,” and “separateness” are less valued compared to family bonding and commitment.³² While in European languages there is typically only one word for honor (e.g. “honor” in English, “heder” in Swedish, “ære” in Danish), there are, as noted by Wikan, typically at least two words for honor in Middle Eastern languages.³³ To exemplify with the Arabic language, a distinction is made between honor related to women’s chastity (‘ird), and honor related to men’s status in society (sharaf), which depends on their outward “face” (wajh).³⁴ Women’s sexuality is at the center of honor-based violence, as the honor of a family—if not community—depends on “the “purity” (i.e. virginity) of its female members.³⁵ Therefore, if a woman’s moral virtue is compromised or her reputation for chastity is sullied by rumors of having disgraced the sexual morals, regardless of whether the rumors are true or not, she will bring shame (ayb) on the family, especially the men, causing them to “lose face” and thereby their honor (sharaf).³⁶ In honor culture, a man’s honor depends on his ability to respond properly whenever it is challenged to retain the honor,³⁷ and when he is applauded by family and community for defending the honor the shame is “washed” away.”³⁸

Honor-based violence is particularly evident in preventive regulatory measures, control, or sanctions of behavior such as restricting women’s access to public spaces, enforcing dress code (e.g. wearing a veil), dictating social interactions and choice of life partner (i.e. endogamy and forced marriage), demanding virginity before marriage, practicing genital mutilation, and in extreme cases committing honor killings.³⁹ As bearers of honor in the family, women should veil.⁴⁰ As noted by Rinehart, the Prophet Muhammad was the first to prescribe veiling of women to protect them from the impure thoughts of evil men with bad intentions (in contrast to good men with pure intentions).⁴¹ According to Joppke, the function of the Islamic headscarf is to restrict and confine women’s sexuality to its rightful owner, the husband, making it the most pertinent sign of male superiority because it entails the reduction of women to their sexuality, which represents a danger to the sanctity of the Muslim community.⁴² Joppke refers to a famous Qur’an headscarf verse, Surah 24:30: “Enjoin believing women to turn their eyes away from temptation and to preserve their chastity; not to display their adornments […] to draw their veils over their bosoms and not to display their finery except to their husbands (and other male kin).”⁴³ A reading of this headscarf verse from a purely religious point of view—which is not necessarily consistent with the tendency of aestheticization and sexualization of the veil in large modern cities⁴⁴—is clearly rooted in honor culture, where women’s sexuality is at the center. Not only should women turn their eyes away from the temptation of being attracted to men other than their husbands, but they are also responsible for avoiding drawing the attention of other men with their femininity and beauty and safeguarding their chastity by “covering up.”

Although women’s sexuality is at the center of honor-based violence, men who deviate from the honor-based cultural codes can also be victims.⁴⁵ Male victims are typically men who are perceived as too “Westernized” in their behavior, men who refuse to take part in arranged or forced marriage, or homosexual men who by being considered “unmanly” challenge the patriarchal gender order where men are superior to women.⁴⁶ In addition, both men and women can act as enforcers of honor-based violence.⁴⁷ Female enforcers of honor culture can be, for example, mothers striving hard to safeguard family interests and even their own survival in the honor-based culture by enforcing strict gender norms on their daughters and resorting to honor-based violence against daughters perceived as dishonoring the family.⁴⁸ Honor-based violence should not be conflated with violence in close relationships, nor should honor killings, specifically, be equated with so-called crimes of passion.⁴⁹ Having said that, it is important to note that elements of power and control such as physical violence, psychological violence, stalking, etc., which are used to violently abuse another person in the context of close relationships, may indeed also manifest in honor-based violence.⁵⁰

Previous Research on Honor-Based Violence in the Context of Militant Islamism

To the best of our knowledge, research on honor-based violence has never addressed a possible link to militant Islamism. Some scholars in the field of honor-based violence have explored honor-based violence within various Islamic contexts,⁵¹ but connections to Salafism, specifically Salafi-jihadism, are nonexistent. In contrast, research in the field of Islamist radicalization and terrorism has touched on the topic of honor-based violence—though mostly indirectly.

Previous research demonstrates that the Salafi-jihadist milieu is permeated by strongly traditional and patriarchal gender norms and perceptions (i.e. how women and men are considered to be either feminine or masculine) with clearly defined complementary roles.⁵² The Salafi-jihadist milieu, whether in ISIS-territory or in offline spaces in Western countries, is strongly gender segregated, as women are not allowed to enter public space without a mahram (a male relative a woman needs to be accompanied by outside the home).⁵³ Restricting women’s access to public space limits their contact with men (as well as non-Muslims), as they are relegated to the domestic sphere to fulfill their roles as jihadi wives and mothers of the next generation of jihadis.⁵⁴ Indeed, marriage is systematically and strategically used in state-building jihadi organizations, as women and children are necessary for building a state.⁵⁵ Although the classical doctrine of defensive jihad (jihad al-daf’) makes it incumbent upon both men and women to fight when the enemy invades Muslim land, jihadi ideologues have excluded women from combat on the battlefield, justified on the grounds that entering the battlefield, according to sharia, would entail “unlawful” interactions with men and putting women’s modesty at risk.⁵⁶ However, research has demonstrated that ISIS with the strategic use of gender-segregated parallel institutions managed to overcome the mahram obstacle and succeeded in attracting and incorporating women into the organization in more active roles within education, health, administration, and the female “morality police” al-Khansaa, without women risking interacting with men.⁵⁷

Research on women’s radicalization into militant Islamism has highlighted this as evidenced by a sudden urge to adopt a specific dress code including black abaya, niqab (which covers the face except for the eyes), and sometimes black gloves.⁵⁸ This way of dressing has even been referred to as the “ISIS dress code for women.”⁵⁹ The urge to cover oneself is deeply rooted in an honor culture that centers on women’s sexuality, as in this context it is considered a woman’s responsibility to avoid attracting men and to preserve her chastity by “covering up.” In addition, in the Salafi-jihadist milieu, Muslim women who do not dress “properly” are considered infidels (cf. the takfir phenomenon).⁶⁰ Scholars have noted that, just as in many Arabic cultures, the Islamic State enforces strict rules for its “honor system,” in which the virtue of the family and the Muslim community hinges on the “purity” of the female members; meaning female behavior must be tightly controlled to safeguard the honor and reputation of their families and communities.⁶¹ To ensure the code of honor was observed in Islamic State’s former territory in Syria and Iraq, the Islamic State advocated and practiced honor-based violence.⁶² For example, ISIS deployed the “moral police,” called hisbah, and specifically the female “moral police” al-Khansaa.⁶³ The assignment for women in al-Khansaa was to enforce sharia law on other women, which involved surveillance to ensure that women were, among other things, covered up correctly in the modest Islamic dress and not walking outside of their homes alone.⁶⁴ If that was not the case, women were punished by the female “moral police” by being required to take a sharia course, being fined, receiving forty lashes or being punished with torture instruments.⁶⁵ Khelghat-Doost has even described how institutions within jihadi organizations, such as schools and hospitals, extend beyond their primary functions of teaching and healthcare, as they were effectively used to control and regulate women’s sexuality and behavior, for example through enforcement of gender-segregated spaces and adherence to the ISIS dress code.⁶⁶ In addition, justified in the concept of “commanding right and forbidding wrong” (hisba), students were encouraged to spy on their parents, particularly their mothers, and learned from an early age to observe and report what they saw in their family.⁶⁷ Similarly, nurses were used to spy on their colleagues and patients.⁶⁸ Through these mechanisms, jihadi groups were able to extend their control deeper into the private lives of their members.⁶⁹

The concept of “commanding right and forbidding wrong” was also used by ISIS to justify executions of homosexuals, who were typically killed by being thrown from roofs or high-rise buildings (based on a hadith in which the Prophet’s successor, Abu Bakr, prescribes throwing a man off a cliff for engaging in homosexual acts), stoned to death, beheaded or shot.⁷⁰ The executions of homosexuals are part of a deliberate “moral policing campaign” that seeks to redefine and control social relations according to the Islamic State’s Salafist moral code.⁷¹ The condemnation of homosexuality is most often justified in “the actions of the people of Lot,” referring to verses in the Qur’an and in the hadiths that condemn the prophet Lot and his people for acts of sodomy and moral decay.⁷² Thus, Islamic State’s terror attacks in the West targeting the LGBT community in particular, as opposed to unbelievers more broadly, are, as noted by Cottee, perfectly explained by the Islamic State’s “murderous homophobia” which has theological roots in “radical Islam.”⁷³

Previous research has also addressed how “moral policing” of gender norms, high valuation of women’s modesty, and defense of honor justified in theological terms, are exercised in online space in unofficial propaganda (i.e. propaganda produced by individuals themselves, in contrast to official propaganda from terror organizations) among militant Islamists and their sympathizers across the world.⁷⁴ Bloom, one of the few scholars to explicitly address honor-based violence in the context of militant Islamism, described how online female recruiters for al-Qaeda effectively used de-masculinization as a recruitment tactic.⁷⁵ By taunting men for failing to do their male duty and uphold traditional masculine gender norms and demanding they protect Muslim women from sexual trespass, particularly by male non-believers, these women shamed men into joining jihad.⁷⁶ When women in honor-bound societies imply that men are unmanly they challenge men’s honor by questioning their ability to act as protectors and defenders of the family—in some instances unmanly men were also assumed to be effeminate.⁷⁷ Pearson has illustrated how male ISIS-sympathizers “police” women’s sexual behavior online by expressing distance to “sisters” without haya (virtue) and “brothers” without ghirah (protective jealousy exercised by men around “their” women).⁷⁸ Pearson has also demonstrated how female ISIS-sympathizers “police” other women’s behavior online through enforcement of group conformity around dress, modesty and the rules of interaction with men.⁷⁹ For example, female ISIS-sympathizers propagandized online for other women to wear black abaya, niqab, and gloves (i.e. the obligatory ISIS dress code), which is associated with “true beauty” and contrasted with immoral Western constructions of beauty which are perceived as synonymous with vanity and the display of flesh.⁸⁰ Specifically regarding the Swedish context, Esholdt has demonstrated how ISIS-affiliated “sisters in the faith” on social media executed “moral policing” of women’s sexuality in propagandizing for ways of regulating, controlling, and maintaining gendered norms in offline space by discussing and giving examples of what behavior is halal and haram.⁸¹ For example, in advocating for women to “cast down their eyes” and “cover up” in order not to risk attracting men, a “sister” warns: “Honored sisters in Islam. Don’t let yourself be deceived by the sweet and charming words some brother [a Muslim man] sends you. Don’t let him take away the most beautiful thing you have, your hayaa [virtue].”⁸² These “sisters in the faith” are against liberal feminism and oppose gender equality, the right of a woman to enter public space (including institutions where men and women mingle, such as the labor market and educational institutions), and the right to self-determination over one’s own body (e.g. premarital sex and abortion).⁸³ Instead, they advocate for sharia law, gender-segregation (in online and offline space), and for women to embrace a patriarchal gender order with clear-cut traditional gender roles, where women are relegated to the home as supportive housewives and mothers.⁸⁴ Moreover, scholars have observed how ISIS-affiliated women, in order to protect women’s modesty and honor on social media, which is considered an extended public space, ensure that their faces are never shown online by being “covered up” and perhaps even standing with the back turned to the viewer.⁸⁵

Ideals of masculinity and femininity connected to traditional gender roles have also been manipulated and exploited in official propaganda by militant Islamists. For example, ISIS constructed a narrative stating that Western Muslim women’s honor was under constant threat outside of the Caliphate, as they were not free to wear the modest Islamic dress in the West.⁸⁶ In addition, ISIS claimed that because Western feminists and emasculated men had forced women into the labor market, Western Muslim women were forced to leave the safety of the domestic sphere and were thus suffering contact with unrelated men.⁸⁷ The theme of maintaining Muslim women’s honor in Western societies is also a major theme of official al-Qaeda propaganda. Roose and Cook have described how al-Qaeda in propaganda narratives has claimed that feminist advancements in the West harm Muslim women.⁸⁸ The argument is that women’s honor is being put at risk by being brought up in the West, which imposes ideas that make them sources of permissible satisfaction of lust in the name of freedom, femininity, and equal rights, ultimately leading them to prostitution and immorality.⁸⁹ Bloom has described how Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, a former head of al-Qaeda in Iraq (died 2006), used propaganda to shame men into jihad by demanding that they step up to guard women’s honor to restore their own masculinity.⁹⁰ The suggestion was that men’s refusal to fight would result in the sexual violation of women in their families and religious communities because of their cowardice.⁹¹ Indeed, the need to protect the honor of Muslim women has inspired scores of young men to join the global jihad.⁹²

Finally, Bloom has even described how al-Qaeda and their affiliated organizations exploited honor culture when using rape to recruit women and turn them into suicide bombers.⁹³ After being raped, female recruiters approached the shamed victims as “confidants” and convinced them that the only way to redeem themselves and deal with the social stigma of being raped and the certainty of bringing shame on their families (as a result of an honor code which blames women who were raped for the crime) was through becoming a martyr (shahida).⁹⁴ As they would die anyway (i.e. being honor killed by their families), women “chose” to become suicide bombers.⁹⁵ The same was true with young Muslim men who after being raped by al-Qaeda affiliated groups were left with intense social stigma of being regarded as homosexuals and consequently the prospect of being honor killed by their families, which recruiters exploited to “create” suicide bombers.⁹⁶ As described by Rinehart, one can atone for sins by sacrificing one’s life in religious holy war through martyrdom (istishadi); an act that grants forgiveness from Allah, ensures automatic entry into paradise, and restores the family honor by “wiping away” one’s sins.⁹⁷

To sum up, previous research has in different ways touched on the issue of honor culture in militant Islamist propaganda and recruitment, female radicalization processes, “moral policing” of gender norms in ISIS-controlled territories and Western countries, as well as online among militant Islamists and their supporters. However, there has been no explicit research seeking to deeply understand how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor for Western Muslims towards militant Islamism, and thus how the intersection of honor-based violence and militant Islamism concretely manifests in the lives and social communities of Western Muslims.

Method and Materials

This article draws on an overall ethnographic approach to studying terrorism, implying a method using direct engagement with terrorists and the people around them to develop a deep understanding of social practices, relationships, and meaning-making processes related to their actions and motivations.⁹⁸ Specifically, ethnographic fieldwork in Sweden and prison ethnography in Denmark were conducted to explore the trajectories of Scandinavians towards militant Islamism. For this article, we have made a selection of interviews based on the criterion that informants explicitly or implicitly addressed the topic of honor culture within the context of militant Islamism. This resulted in interviews with six informants, referred to here by anonymized names: 1) two interviews with a firsthand source of an imprisoned Danish woman convicted of ISIS-related terrorism (Zera), 2) one interview with a firsthand/secondhand source, a mother of a deceased Swedish ISIS foreign fighter who herself has previously been part of the Swedish Salafi-jihadist milieu (Moa), and lastly 3) four interviews with secondhand sources of Swedish “professionals” such as police officers, social workers, and municipal employees working with violent Islamist extremism (Hans, Anton, Oluf, Linda).

Esholdt conducted ethnographic fieldwork involving interviews and observations in areas in cities such as Göteborg, Borås, Malmö, and Stockholm, which have been pointed to by the Swedish Police Authority as “particularly exposed areas” (särskilt utsatta områden) characterized by Islamist extremism, foreign fighters who join militant Islamist groups, and “parallel societies.”⁹⁹ These areas can also be described as “radicalization hubs.”¹⁰⁰ Of the Swedish foreign fighters who traveled to conflict areas in Syria and Iraq (2012-2016), 70% have lived in an exposed area.¹⁰¹ Scholars have for decades pointed to the fact that little research on Islamist radicalization and terrorism is actually based on primary data from interviews with individuals with firsthand experience of engaging in militant Islamism.¹⁰² Accessing primary data from firsthand jihadist sources, particularly active ones, has been described as a daunting and inherently risky challenge for researchers.¹⁰³ Therefore, Esholdt adopted a “milieu-based” approach,¹⁰⁴ expanding the focus to include secondhand sources such as relatives and friends of individuals engaging in Salafi-jihadism, as well as “professionals” such as police officers, social workers, and municipal employees working on the prevention of violent Islamist extremism, who could also provide valuable insights on the issue. Esholdt has previously described how access to informants, especially firsthand sources of individuals engaging in the Salafi-jihadist milieu and their relatives—including the ones included in this study—entailed a long, unstructured, time-consuming, and unpredictable process identifying and building rapport with potential informants.¹⁰⁵ All interviews conducted in the Swedish context included in this study were conducted and recorded by Esholdt alone between 2017-2019 at locations of Swedish authorities.

While Esholdt was collecting data in Sweden, Necef, who had previously succeeded in interviewing Enes Ciftci (the first person in Denmark convicted of ISIS-related terrorism) four times in prison between 2017 and 2018,¹⁰⁶ attempted to access other individuals either convicted or awaiting trial for Islamist terrorism by the Danish Courts.¹⁰⁷ Through desk research, Necef identified several imprisoned individuals meeting his criteria. Drawing on his prior experience of accessing Enes Ciftci, he sent letters directly addressed to them, bypassing official channels as gatekeepers. Nonetheless, Necef’s inquiries were rejected by the Danish Correctional institutions’ (Kriminalforsorgen) security department with reference to security considerations. As Necef has previously experienced, security considerations are apparently a difficult hurdle to overcome.¹⁰⁸ Necef remains uncertain whether the imprisoned individuals ever received his letters. However, one of his inquiries did pay off, which resulted in access to Zera. It is not known to us why access to Zera was possible while access to the others was not. Once again, this underscores that qualitative inquiry in this field is as much a matter of persistence, luck, and being in the right place at the right time as it is of good training.¹⁰⁹ Necef visited Zera alone in prison one time in 2019 while taking notes, and subsequently, in 2020, Esholdt and Necef conducted two recorded interviews with her in prison (with approval from the Danish Correctional Service).

All interviews with informants lasted between 90 minutes and 4 hours. The interview with Moa was conducted at her request with the gatekeeper present, a female police officer (Linda), who had worked on the case with Moa’s son (Samir) who joined ISIS, and whom Moa had built a trusted relationship with. Indeed, gaining access has often been understood in simplistic ways as solely referring to the initial search and contact stage, when in fact access is a complex and relational process that continues throughout the research process.¹¹⁰ Accordingly, the researcher has to continuously work on building trust and ensuring an environment where the interviewee feels safe enough to “open up” and talk about sensitive issues.¹¹¹ Interested in exploring Scandinavians’ trajectories towards militant Islamism, and departing from scholars who outline methodological guidelines for conducting interviews with terrorists,¹¹² we conducted so-called teller-focused interviews.¹¹³ This type of interview emphasizes the relationship between interviewer and interviewee as a relational practice where the researcher assumes the role not primarily of the questioner, but rather of the listener.¹¹⁴ In addition, unlike structured or semi-structured interviews, this approach to interviewing does not rely on questions that are predefined and planned in advance. Instead, it resembles unstructured interviewing in that it begins with open-ended questions such as “Can you tell me what happened?,” thereby allowing the interviewee to largely dictate the content and direction of the interview.¹¹⁵ As such, this approach to interviewing aligns with Hamm and Spaaij’s recommendation that active listening is essential for empathy, understanding another’s plight, and providing “thick description,” just as it allows the researcher to connect with another human being, rather than merely a “subject” (a terrorist).¹¹⁶ We employed this approach when interviewing both firsthand and secondhand sources, as it fits well with an open and exploratory approach interested in hearing about individuals’ experiences. While we were naturally cognizant of jihadis’ highly conservative views on gender from our time being in the field, honor-based violence was not initially a predefined theme of our research. Instead, this theme emerged—explicitly or implicitly—during the research process, concerning both men and women in the Salafi-jihadist milieu.

Other empirically driven scholars in the field have expressed concern about the credibility of interviews with terrorists.¹¹⁷ As Horgan, for example, notes: “How do you know if they are telling the truth?”¹¹⁸ According to Cottee and Cunliffe, retrospective account-making may imply methodological problems as regards “the way in which time skews memory and perception,” just as informants may rationalize or excuse, rather than reliably explain their involvement in terrorism.¹¹⁹ However, as noted by Horgan, time is a central variable that can heavily influence what is disclosed to the interviewer, and the terrorist is never more relevant from a research standpoint than when he or she is disengaged: “it is at that point that they are far more likely to realistically (and safely) engage with researchers about past activity.”¹²⁰ Moa and Zera both described themselves as defectors from the Salafi-jihadist milieu. During the interviews they spoke about the significant personal losses their involvement in the milieu have cost them. They expressed how they have regretted it and are shameful about it, and how they have even had a hard time themselves struggling to comprehend how they became involved in the milieu. Given these reflections, we see no immediate reason to question the credibility of their statements. Moa even expressed how participating in the interview gave her the feeling of having done something meaningful and good after the loss of her son, whose death she felt complicit in. However, the female police officer Linda who participated in the interview with Moa made it explicitly clear to Esholdt that there would be no opportunity for meeting with Moa again for follow-up questions or a re-interview; Linda’s facilitation of the interview with Moa was a one-time occasion. It is well-known that it is hard to build rapport and maintain trust with individuals who have firsthand experiences of engaging in Salafi-jihadism.¹²¹ However, this seemed even harder in the case of Zera when dealing with a young, imprisoned woman having an emotionally tough time and when, in addition, COVID-19 had closed down the country and the possibility to meet was severely challenged. Due to these circumstances, we lost contact with Zera a while after the second interview.

Only few researchers have previously succeeded in conducting face-to-face interviews with persons who are or have been engaging in militant Islamist milieus.¹²² Moreover, conducting interviews with imprisoned individuals convicted of Islamist terrorism in Denmark has proven to be almost impossible. To our knowledge, several researchers have tried but so far only Necef’s interviews with the ISIS foreign fighter Enes Ciftci exist.¹²³ In addition, scholars have recently also pointed to methodological challenges of accessing relatives of persons in the Salafi-jihadist milieu.¹²⁴ Our empirical data, particularly the interviews with Moa and Zera, allow us to capture unique insights into the lived experience of radicalization towards militant Islamism as well as the lived experience within a militant Islamist milieu. As these interviews undoubtedly offer unique data to the research field, special emphasis will be given to these in the following analysis to provide the “thick description” of the process by which individuals become radicalized and involved in Islamist terrorism that our data deserves and scholars have called for,¹²⁵ i.e. a rich ethnographic description with many details, angles, and perspectives.¹²⁶ We agree with Cottee that radicalization research is dominated by studies that lump together different individuals, ideologies and groups typically framed in terms of distant generic push and pull factors, neglecting to capture radicalization processes from the perspective of those who experience it.¹²⁷ Our data, consisting of a total of six interviews, is comparable to other peer-reviewed qualitative studies based on interviews with firsthand and secondhand sources in the Scandinavian context.¹²⁸ Having said that, the quality of qualitative empirical material cannot be summed up in quantitative terms, but instead in terms of the source of the material, the “richness” of the material concerning detailed descriptions, and thus the qualitative insights it can provide.¹²⁹

Our analytical focus on honor-based violence as a mobilizing factor towards militant Islamism does not mean that other factors in radicalization processes such as the influence of social networks, the role of propaganda, engagement in criminal milieus, etc., which will shine through in our empirical material presented in the following analysis, are not important or interesting, only that these aspects will not be addressed here. To ensure anonymity of all living individuals covered by the Personal Data Acts, all identifiable characteristics (e.g. names, geographical places, ethnicity, family information) have been omitted or altered, just as certain details have been modified. Ethical approval regarding research in the Swedish context was granted by the Swedish Ethical Review Authority (Dnr. 2016/1076), while research in the Danish context has obtained ethical approval from the University of Southern Denmark.

Findings

In the following, we reveal how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor for Western Muslims towards militant Islamism in three distinct ways. Starting with insights from “professionals” such as police officers, social workers, and municipal employees we gradually proceed to the experiences of a mother of a deceased Swedish ISIS foreign fighter, who was previously herself part of the Swedish Salafi-jihadist milieu, before ending by disclosing the experiences of an imprisoned Danish woman convicted of ISIS-related terrorism.

Mobilization through Isolation of Muslim Women and Children

Some of the “particularly exposed areas” in Sweden, where militant Islamism is entrenched, are also known to be places where the broad Salafist movement is concentrated, just as these areas face increasing problems with honor-based violence, also connected to Salafism.¹³⁰ Authorities have reported that honor culture based in Salafism, particularly evident in restrictions on women’s access to public space, clothing, and social life, has become more visible in, for example, “moral policing” by strangers in public space who reprimand women for not wearing a veil or for dressing too “lightly.”¹³¹ Statements from our informants contribute to further understanding how honor culture manifests in the lives of individuals and social communities in these areas.

The municipal employee Anton summed up in an interview: “…so we have organized crime, gang crime, violent Islamist extremism, violence in close relationships, honor-based violence, and these phenomena are connected in different ways.” Another municipal employee, Hans, stated, “where there is Salafi-jihadism, there is always also honor-based violence.” Some police workers who helped Esholdt as gatekeepers explained how wives of (returned) ISIS foreign fighters could not be accessed for interviews because they were living under the social control of their husbands and could not leave their homes. Another police officer, Oluf, further explained that because of sharia Muslim women were not allowed to access public space. For example, he reported cafes and other public spaces that were one hundred percent male dominated. “This sends certain signals about how people are treated,” Oluf continued, and gave yet another example of gender-segregation:

“We had this problem in a residential area with garbage bags being thrown next to the garbage containers. It was a normal garbage container—just open it and throw in the garbage bag and close. Nothing strange about it! But nonetheless, it seemed as if many often chose to place the garbage bag next to the garbage containers. It appeared very strange to us. […] We started to look more into it… The landlord looked at it because it became a sanitary problem. It turned out that the reason why people did not open the garbage containers was because it was children who threw out the garbage bags, and they were not tall enough to reach… to open the containers, which is why they put the garbage bags next to the containers instead. And the reason was that the [Muslim] women in the area were not allowed to leave their apartments, so they send down the boys and the boys could not reach.”

The statement clearly illustrates how strong collective control is exercised in the area by a broader ethnic and religious community that is not limited to family and kinship groups, which restricts women’s freedom, as Muslim women apparently comply with the injunction not to go out. To give another example, in her search for informants Esholdt once visited the women’s section of a mosque where a returned Swedish ISIS foreign fighter was on the board, the Imam was on SÄPO’s list of individuals in Sweden classified as violence-promoting Islamist extremists, and where the deceased Swedish ISIS foreign fighter Michael Skråmo had previously been preaching.¹³² Talking to some young Muslim girls in the mosque Esholdt asked them if there were many women usually gathered there. The girls replied that generally not because, “it gives more respect for a woman to stay at home, where she can also pray, than being in the mosque.” When women risk losing “respect” when being in the mosque, which is a gender-segregated space, it is because going to the mosque implies entering public space. This way of reasoning reflects an honor-based culture where women’s presence in public space without a mahram threatens the family honor. Therefore, to conform to the expectations of acting as a “good” Muslim woman, women should rather stay at home than go to the mosque.

The interview with Moa sheds further light on women’s confinement to the home. Moa, originally from Sweden, converted to Islam in her youth after meeting her husband, who had immigrated to Sweden from the Middle East. According to Moa, he was not into “radical Islam” when they met. His involvement in “radical Islam” began after they relocated to a “particularly exposed area,” where he got connections in the Salafi-jihadi milieu. Moa explained how she herself back then participated in handing out flyers for a militant Islamist group and paid tribute to 9/11 and Osama bin Laden: “I was probably a bit of a “follower.” I stood up for the cause of jihad, the issue of holy war and all that stuff at the time. I don’t think I really understood what it meant until the day when my son went to Syria. Do you understand what I mean?” During the interview conducted with the female police officer Linda present, Moa revealed not only that the family was part of the militant Islamist milieu in Sweden, but also that the family, which included several boys and girls, adhered strictly to an honor-based cultural code governing how one should live one’s life. Moa described how her husband was extremely controlling and how not behaving “correctly” would result in physical and emotional abuse: “everything was very Islamic and very strict. Everything was haram, a sin—literally everything. Yes, it was very strict. Yes, they [the children] were abused. I was abused. There was a lot of abuse in the home.” For example, the girls in the family were forced to wear a veil from the age of four, and the family was not allowed to watch mainstream TV or films such as children’s programs or programs where people kissed or hugged. “Instead, we watched videos about Islam, documentaries, and things like that,” Moa said. In addition, neither Moa nor her children were allowed by her husband to leave the home and go out on their own.

Moa had been a housewife, dedicated to taking care of the children throughout her life, and had never pursued employment. This decision was driven by the belief that acquiring an education or holding a regular job would necessitate interactions with non-Muslims and individuals of the opposite sex. When Moa received child support from the government, she was compelled to hand over the money to her husband, who maintained complete control over the family’s finances, including her bank card. Given her restricted mobility, her husband handled all shopping tasks. Moa did not even buy her own clothes (abayas). In the interview she explained how she was basically locked up in the home and not even allowed to go to the balcony—not even “covered up:”

Table

Moa:	I couldn’t go out, I couldn’t go out. […] We could not even go out. I was not even allowed to go to the balcony.
Henriette:	You were not even allowed to go to the balcony?
Police officer Linda:	Once you told me that you were sitting on the balcony floor and heard someone walking in high heels out in the yard, and you thought to yourself “Oh God, what freedom!” You heard someone who was out in the sun, while you were sitting on the balcony floor hiding.
Moa:	[…] when you were sitting on the balcony, you walked like… [Moa demonstrates how she would crawl out on to the balcony floor]. You did not want to be seen when you were sitting on the balcony, because there were other Muslims who could see you—“Well, there she is out on the balcony!”
Henriette:	And then there would be gossip?
Moa:	Yes, so you would rather crawl out on the balcony floor to breath in and feel the sun. You could hear people. Occasionally you peeked out, “Look!” Then you could see other Muslim women. Sometimes I got so sad and thought “What the fuck, look at her! She is also a Muslim, but she is wearing a veil and high heels and…
Police officer Linda:	She is outside on her own…
Moa:	… came home with clothes they had been shopping. You could see them. At the same time, you were like, “Nah, she’s not a good Muslim.”

Moa’s utterances reveal an honor culture where the honor of a family depends on chaste behavior of its female members. Apparently, even stepping onto the balcony is considered as entering public space, where Moa will risk being seen by other Muslims in the neighborhood—perhaps even men who will be seduced by her. This could potentially lead to gossip suggesting she had disgraced the sexual morals, thereby tarnishing her reputation, regardless of the truth behind any rumors. As a result, she would bring shame upon the men in her family, leading to a “loss of face” and thereby their honor, which then would need to be restored through a proper response.

According to Moa, her children had been brought up very isolated from Swedish society. To prevent them from interacting with non-Muslims and individuals of the opposite sex, they had not been allowed to attend Swedish preschools and public schools. Additionally, they were restricted from going out on their own. However, sometimes Moa went out with the children behind the husband’s back:

Table

Moa:	I often kept secrets behind his back, just to be able to live a little. I went out with them [the children] in secret. I went out with them so they could play a little; meet other kids…, because they did not attend open preschools or anything like that. All these, according to him [the husband] were kuffar [infidels], whom we should not have anything to do with.
Henriette:	You said they did not attend preschools?
Moa:	No, they did not go to preschool. They had no activities, nothing. They could not have anything like that. For example, if you want to go to the gym and work out. Yes, what is then going to happen? There will be music and you will risk meeting girls.
Henriette:	So, they actually had a very isolated social life?
Moa:	Yes, indeed!
Henriette:	But they did attend school?
Moa:	Yes, a Muslim school.
Henriette:	A Muslim school? All the years?
Moa:	Yes, all the years.

The fact that the boys were not even allowed to go to the gym, because that would entail the risk of listening to music and meeting girls, besides demonstrating that modern music is considered un-Islamic in the Salafist movement,¹³³ indicates a milieu with strict rules regarding interactions with individuals of the opposite sex and pre-marital relationships. Because women’s sexuality is at the center of honor-based culture, marriage is the only legitimate framework for women’s sexuality; pre-marital and extra-marital sex are deemed illegitimate.¹³⁴ However, in this case, even the boys in the family were not allowed to have girlfriends, and if they were allowed to go out, they always had to bring one of their sisters:

“If they were allowed to go outside, it had to be right outside where he [the father] could surveil them. And if they were allowed to go out, they had to bring one of their sisters with them too. One of the sisters always had to be there, just be there. Because then they could not do anything, because they had to keep an eye on her.”

In Muslim honor-based cultures women are typically seen as belonging to their blood-related family even after marriage, as the family is ultimately responsible for her; a responsibility that often rests on brothers throughout life.¹³⁵ Brothers are socialized to protect, surveil, and sanction their sisters’ “wrong” gendered behavior, and through this process they themselves are masculinized and learn to be become patriarchs, while their sisters are socialized to be inferior and responsible for the family’s honor.¹³⁶ However, in this case, Moa’s boys’ keeping an eye on their sister also prevented them from doing “something” considered haram (forbidden) such as meeting girls, as the sister’s presence limited their freedom, as she could report to the father what the boys had been up to.

As demonstrated, honor culture enforced with the assistance of a broader community beyond family and kinship groups is deeply embedded in the Swedish “particularly exposed areas,” where militant Islamism and the Salafist movement are concentrated. More specifically, Muslim women and children (regardless of gender) are isolated through gender-segregation and restrictions on accessing public space in order to “moral police” gender norms. By isolating women and children, they are prevented from exercising their individual freedoms and rights and freely participating in mainstream society and interacting with non-Muslims and individuals of the opposite sex. In other words, they are shield from “harmful” external influences and counterarguments to “radical Islam,” imprisoning them in a mental “echo chamber.” As a result, this enables the Salafi-jihadist milieu to cement and extend its ideological, religious, and physical control, i.e. to mobilize further.

Restoring Family Honor and Affirming to “Real” Muslim Masculinity as a Mobilizing Factor for Joining ISIS

After many years, Moa decided to divorce her husband. “I guess I started to realize what kind of life I had been leading. Maybe I wanted to become a little freer,” Moa explained. In Islam, men are the initiators of divorce and are usually the only ones who can terminate a marriage unless a woman suffers unusual cruelty from her husband or he is unable to impregnate her.¹³⁷ Indeed, divorced women are a threat to the family honor, as they are the visible proof that the men in the family have not done well enough to protect the family honor.¹³⁸ Thus, with the divorce Moa opposed the gendered norm that only men initiate divorce, tarnished the family’s reputation, and brought shame upon her family, especially her ex-husband and her sons, causing them to “lose face.” This clearly illustrates how individuals in honor culture are socialized to perceive one’s sense of self as closely tied to the actions of others.¹³⁹ After the divorce Moa stopped wearing the modest Islamic dress, and her now ex-husband “called me everything from a to z. Yes, cunt to be frank, even in front of the children—mamma is like this and that. So, the children were offended even after the divorce because of my behavior.” Moa was often called derogatory names like “whore,” sometimes even by her sons, which clearly indicated that her gendered behavior was perceived by the men in her family as deviating. Moreover, she was told that “you are not a Muslim, you are just like any other kafir [infidel],” thus accusing her of not being a “real” Muslim (c.f. the takfir phenomenon), and consequently someone you should turn your back on.

While Moa began to lead a freer, more independent life, her ex-husband maintained a strong need for control over their children. The children were subjected to physical violence by their father if they did not adhere to his strict Salafist way of living and required them to report what was going on in their mother’s home. In addition, “he had his connections, he had his friends, everyone saw everything. So, he always knew what was going on at my place. It didn’t matter if the children did not want to tell,” Moa explained and with this statement illustrated how honor-based violence is carried out with the assistance of a community. According to Moa, the children, who lived alternately with the mother and the father, began to lead a double life. At Moa’s place the girls were no longer required to wear veils, and some of the boys (secretly) drank beer and had girlfriends. Moa related that “my son [Samir] who went to Syria loved blonds.” In addition, Samir was engaged in petty crime while at the same time started attending different congregations rooted in “radical Islam” that influenced him strongly. He even frequented a basement mosque where, according to Moa, he “probably had lessons about jihad and things like that.” Moa believes that this leading a double life is part of the explanation for why Samir joined ISIS as a teenager under 18 years of age:

“At their father’s house it was still very strict, so the children lived in two different worlds—that was the problem. My home was very free, incredibly free, but at their father’s house everything was very hard and strict. They got very lost because they could not find themselves—what are we going to do? And then my son went away. […] I don’t know, sometimes it feels like it was a way to escape from this strict and hard life—now I will do something instead to get away from it all. My mother leads her life in this way, my father leads his life in that way. Now I’m leaving this mess. I’m leaving all this shit […]. My son wanted to escape from it all, get an excuse to get out of here. He was probably tired of seeing all this.”

In other words, the children were caught between mainstream Swedish and “radical Islam’s” values and lifestyle, broadly representing a conflict between an individualistic and a collectivistic approach to a way of life. As noted by Mernissi, pressure on the patriarchal gender order in honor culture triggered by modernization processes can lead to instability, role confusion, and tensions, because existing norms are destabilized while new norms have not yet developed.¹⁴⁰ In addition, the influence of modernization and globalization which has expanded in the Arab world as well as among ethnic minorities in Europe has, according to Cohen-Mor, led not only to more democratic family relations but also to increasing Islamization.¹⁴¹ According to Moa, Samir’s leading a double life made him an easy target for ISIS recruiters. The police officer, Linda, who was present during the interview, helped Moa to further put into words how leading a double life contributed to Samir joining ISIS:

“Sometimes boys feel very guilty about the life they lead, which the other parent says is haram. “You don’t get to paradise,” things like that they have been told. In that life with girlfriends, in the world they lived in with those peers, there was a lot of crime. […] They could only imagine themselves as criminals or doing jihad. Get the father’s evil eye or the father’s recognition. This was very difficult for them. There were very strong forces at play from the father’s side and that Muslim milieu, so that milieu took Moa’s boy. He got so much recognition.”

Apparently, the Salafi-jihadist milieu that influenced and “took” Samir exploited his leading a double life standing between mainstream society’s individualistic approach and a collectivistic approach anchored in Salafism where honor culture is enforced. Moa continued: “if you didn’t get recognition from your father… it was hard for them. They were teenage boys, and their mother was in the eyes of their father and all his friends a whore.” Moa explained that there was significant pressure on the boys in the family to adhere to the Salafi-jihadist values their father stood for if they wanted his recognition and avoid being exposed to violence. In fact, according to Moa, Samir faced intense pressure from his father to join ISIS, indicating that the father was directly involved in Samir joining ISIS:

“He had been physically abused so badly by his father. When he said things that were positive in accordance with his father’s religious values, the father did not beat him, but he became somebody […] But if he were to get the father’s recognition, which he sought for a very long time, then he was probably forced to go to Syria. […] What happened at their father’s place, no one knows, but I can say that when we lived together, we still had this “holy war” and the issue of jihad on the table all the time. We talked about it, we watched videos, we listened to Muslim antisemitic music. So, it was there all the time. […] I do believe so [that the father was involved in the son’s joining ISIS], because he believes in it and is very into it himself and hates everything that has to do with kuffar [infidels]. He hates everything about authorities and schooling in general. […] So surely, surely, he is the one who has…”

After Samir joined ISIS there was a rumor among some of his friends in the neighborhood that the father had sent money to Samir so he could buy a house in Syria so that the whole family could be gathered there to live, i.e. the father and the other children. At least “the thoughts about the house were there in the father’s mind—that everyone should be down there, and the boys should do jihad, and the girls should marry some true warriors…,” Moa said.

As described by Moa, the fact that her children were raised in a strictly Salafist honor culture governing gendered behavior was essential for understanding her son’s descent into jihadi foreign fighting. In the type of honor culture described here, women’s sexuality forms the basis of a family’s honor, especially men’s honor, as masculinity is reflected in the control of women’s sexuality.¹⁴² By divorcing her husband, Moa brought shame on the family, especially the men, who “lost face” and whose masculinity was violated. Shame is an externally inflicted feeling informed by others’ opinions and judgments of behavior or actions based on shared moral standards.¹⁴³ Recognition involves being acknowledged and accepted by others. In the context of honor culture, Moa’s son joining ISIS makes complete sense. Samir received significant recognition from the Salafi-jihadist milieu he engaged in, as well as from his father, when he adhered to the Salafi-jihadist values the father stood for. This recognition, especially when Samir joined ISIS, which the father was not against but rather supported, served to “wash away” shame and thereby restore the family honor. By joining ISIS Samir restored his standing and masculinity by demonstrating to the outside world that he is a “real” Muslim man upholding “real” Muslim gender values in a patriarchal gender order. Moa even explained how people in the neighborhood were very happy and congratulated her on her son’s death: “They walked up to you, patted you on the shoulder, and cheered to lift you up like you’re something wow—you have a son who just died fighting for this [ISIS],” thus applauding Samir’s actions and that he died as a martyr.

As demonstrated, honor culture is an integrated part of the interpersonal relations between family members and the broader community in the Salafi-jihadist milieu. In an honor-based culture, where there is intense pressure on men from the family and community to defend and restore family honor whenever it is challenged, joining ISIS can be perceived as a means to fulfill this obligation, thereby affirming “real” Muslim masculinity and upholding a patriarchal gender order. These deeply ingrained cultural expectations to defend family honor can even be exploited by Militant Islamist groups in their recruitment efforts.

Escaping Forced Endogamous Marriage as a Mobilizing Factor for Joining ISIS

Zera has been convicted in Denmark of terrorism relating to ISIS. She was born and raised in Denmark by parents who immigrated from the Middle East. She attended a Danish public school and high school, and in many ways lived a “normal” teenage life experimenting with smoking cigarettes and listening to mainstream pop music, but she did not socialize with boys. Zera was not allowed to have a boyfriend, and if she had male friends or a boy from her class had a crush on her, it was always considered a problem. Sometimes, her mother would take her phone and give it to her older brother, instructing him to read all her messages aloud, and if he found “something” Zera would be humiliated in front of her siblings. This illustrates how preventive regulatory measures were enforced to control her behavior and set an example for the other children. “I would just stand there, and everyone would look at me, my father, and my siblings. Then my mother would start questioning me; “who is this?,” and “who is this?,” and “why are you writing with this person” and so on,” Zera explained. In addition, Zera explained how throughout her life, she felt profoundly unwanted, particularly by her mother, who was physically abusive to her and openly expressed that she would rather just have had boys. As Ghanim has described, in cultural contexts favoring sons, the mother typically takes her son’s side.¹⁴⁴ Her dependence on him in the patriarchal family structure leads her to support him in enforcing his male authority over his sisters, his future wife, and even herself.¹⁴⁵ Thus, a mother’s own experiences of being unwanted as a girl and woman are often reflected in the way she treats her daughter.¹⁴⁶ Frequently the daughter receives little or no support from her mother, who reproduces the patriarchal power structures that she herself is subjected to.¹⁴⁷

From the time Zera was a child, her mother had threatened her with sending her back to her parents’ country of origin for a “re-education trip” (genopdragelsesrejse) or to marry her cousin if she socialized with boys or started having plans about marrying someone who was not of the same country of origin as the parents. “Whether he was a Turk, a Kurd, an Afghani or something else, then she would kill me,” Zera explained. Thus, Zera’s mother not only threatened to “honor kill” her, endogamy was also practiced in the family, i.e. the custom of marrying only within the limits of one’s own local community, clan, tribe, caste, ethnic or religious group.¹⁴⁸ Zera also explained that due to the cultural practices within her family, women were not permitted to move away from the family home to live independently, not even after reaching legal adulthood: “you cannot say that you are of legal age. It doesn’t mean anything. That is not how it works with us.” According to Zera, the only legitimate reason to leave the family home would be to get married. Thus, a strong honor-based culture was practiced in the family, but according to Zera it was not rooted in religion, as her parents, who were Sufis (Sufism is a direction within Islam that is to be considered as a supplement to traditional Sunni and Shia Islam), were not very religious in a traditional way. Instead, the honor-based culture was, according to Zera, rooted in traditional culture.

Nonetheless, as a young teenager Zera began to practice Islam because, as she said, “I needed a place to belong, and I found some kind of peace in Islam.” Zera began to pray five times a day and started wearing a veil (gradually it became the niqab), which the mother, who was not very religious, was against: “when I was completely covered up, she did not want to have anything to do with me.” Furthermore, Zera was very searching towards different directions of Islam, feeling as though, in her own words, “I didn’t really know in what direction of Islam I should place myself.” Consequently, she sought out different Muslim congregations and mosques, as well as different closed Salafi-jihadist groups on Facebook. At some point Zera met some girls in a mosque whom she was very fascinated by (partly because they were wearing niqab). They invited her to some closed meetings arranged privately and she started to build close bonds with them. Besides sharing an interest in Islam, Zera felt they had a lot in common, as they all came from dysfunctional families where they met a lot of criticism and resistance against their lifestyle influenced by mainstream youth culture in Denmark. Zera explained, “it doesn’t occur to me that it’s a Salafist direction of Islam, that it’s a very strict direction I’m going into,” and described how she gradually became more radical in her views, which was further enhanced by the increasing resistance she met from her family and her surrounding community. The group of “sisters” she engaged with were very active in the Syrian conflict. They frequently discussed ISIS, “brotherhood” and “sisterhood,” shared ISIS’s views on western propaganda, watched ISIS propaganda videos, and began dreaming of a life in the Caliphate. “I had this idea that I wanted to live a completely pure Islamic life, where everyone accepts each other regardless of hair color and skin color,” Zera explained, referring to the fact that militant Islamist milieus are typically multiethnic diverse milieus.¹⁴⁹ When asked about what made her leave Denmark to join ISIS, she explained:

“Well, all this that is going on at home escalates… My mother wants me to be forcibly married to a man [of the same ethnic origin as the family] and is pressuring me and… I think I was 18 at the time, and some things happen… I wanted to get married. I was ready for marriage, but I wanted to choose a partner on my own, and that led to many conflicts at home because when I said to my parents “hey, I want to get married,” my mother went crazy […] She did not want me to get married. In her view my parents should choose a husband for me, right? And I’m just becoming more and more radical, right? So, I wanted to get married and create my own family life, my own life the way I would like it—an Islamic life without these traditional, cultural problems and superficial things, right? I just wanted a pure Islamic life”

Thus, spousal selection was not an individual choice for Zera, but a family arrangement, leading to many conflicts with her parents. Zera explained how ISIS’s advocating to youngsters the legitimation of performing takfir on their Muslim parents (i.e. declaring them kuffar [infidels]) if they were against them fitted well into her family conflict, as she could use it to distance herself from the family: “I was against my own family already, right? My mother has beaten me so severely so many times, so I already had some kind of love-hate relationship with my mother beforehand. This performing takfir on my parents just gave me yet another reason to be against them. I could use it, you know, and that’s what I did at that time.” Because Zera wanted to get away from the family home and the only legitimate reason for leaving the family home would be to get married, she started looking for a potential spouse to marry with the help of some of her Muslim “sisters.” Although some of the candidates were, as Zera noted, “reasonable persons outside the environment,” the parents did not want her to marry any of them. The parents went crazy and called her a whore, clearly indicating that her gendered behavior deviated from what was expected of her:

“First it was because “Well, he’s a Turk” and then he’s a Kurd. Then I found an Indian who had converted to Islam, and then my mother goes completely crazy […] and then she starts finding a man for me. So, she finds this man [of the same ethnic origin as the family] for me who is from the Netherlands, but I had already said from the beginning “No, you should not choose the man I’m going to marry.” […] My mother isolated me, and she took my phone. I wasn’t allowed to go out, I had to be at home. […] She isolated me from my siblings, who were not allowed to talk to me, and she humiliated me in front of them. She hit me and slapped me in the face in front of them, and interrogated me in front of them, right? And in the meantime, I just got even more frustrated, and I just wanted to get out of that house. At that time, I only thought about the Islamic State. The Islamic State is also a community, a brotherhood. I thought it was the right thing, that they were the ones who would take care of me. I thought—I don’t fit in here anyway. I don’t fit into society. I had to go there, that is where I want to die—you know, in the Islamic State. […] Because of my situation with my parents, I needed to get away.”

Facing the prospect of being forced by her parents into marrying someone of the same ethnic origin as the parents, Zera “needed to get away.” It is hard to definitively say what Zera meant by saying that the ISIS “brotherhood” would take care of her. However, since moving out of the family home to live independently in Denmark was not an option, as it would violate the family honor and bring shame on the family, it seems likely that ISIS for Zera represented a “safe space” she could escape to without risking being persecuted and punished for dishonoring her family by leaving it as an unmarried woman. In addition, ISIS’s multiethnic diversity and embrace of interethnic marriage offered her an opportunity to fulfill the desire to live a “pure Islamic life,” which she associated with acceptance of anyone regardless of ethnic origin. The case of Zera resembles Topal’s description of women’s motivations for engaging in the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK).¹⁵⁰ Joining the PKK provided women with an opportunity to break away from honor culture and restrictive traditional gender roles in their local environments.¹⁵¹ While the future with the PKK may be uncertain, it offered a more promising alternative than early marriage at fifteen, giving them hope and the chance to explore new possibilities.¹⁵² However, already when planning her travel to Syria with some peers, Zera began to realize that she had entered a milieu governed by the same honor-based cultural norms she sought to escape from in her family. Zera explained dissatisfaction with how her Muslim “sister” was controlled and isolated by her husband, who even wanted a second wife just months into their marriage. While serving her prison sentence, Zera underwent psychological treatment and for the first time talked to someone about her family and upbringing. Reflecting on this, she remarked: “suddenly I can see how it has all escalated over the years and why I ended up in all this and why I became so radical.”

To sum up, honor-based violence, although not rooted in Salafist religious values, but more broadly in traditional, conservative culture, can have an impact on individuals’ path towards militant Islamism. Alongside the influence of social networks and propaganda, honor-based violence, particularly forced endogamous marriage, was a major “trigger factor” in Zera’s quest for a social context where she felt she belonged, which ultimately let her to the decision to join ISIS. For Zera, besides providing a “safe space” she could escape to without risking being persecuted and punished for dishonoring her family by leaving it as an unmarried woman, ISIS’s multiethnic diversity and embrace of interethnic marriage appealed to her as she wanted to escape forced endogamous marriage.

Conclusion

This article has revealed how honor-based violence, whether based in religious contexts of Salafism or in contexts of traditional, conservative culture, can propel Western Muslims towards militant Islamism in three distinct ways. First, isolation of Muslim women and children (regardless of gender) through gender segregation and restrictions on accessing public space to “moral police” gender norms enables the Salafi-jihadist milieu to cement and extend its ideological, religious, and physical control, i.e. to mobilize further. Second, in an honor culture with intense pressure on men to defend and restore family honor whenever it is challenged, joining ISIS can be perceived as a means to fulfill this obligation, thereby affirming “real” Muslim masculinity and upholding a patriarchal gender order. The deeply ingrained cultural expectations to defend honor can even be exploited by militant Islamist milieus in their recruitment efforts. Finally, besides providing a “safe space” where one cannot be persecuted and punished for dishonoring one’s family by leaving it as an unmarried woman, ISIS’s multiethnic diversity and embrace of interethnic marriage can be appealing for someone who wants to escape forced endogamous marriage. Below, we will reflect on the limitations and implications of our research finding.

With this article we do not intend to conclude if and how honor-based violence is directly linked to radicalization into militant Islamism in isolation of other factors. Nor do we claim to have covered all aspects of honor-based violence as a mobilizing factor for Western Muslims towards militant Islamism. Instead, our article contributes knowledge on the often overlooked factor of honor-based violence, adding a new piece in the puzzle of understanding Western Muslims’ mobilization into militant Islamism. Indeed, most scholars today recognize that there is no single cause of radicalization; it is a complex process with many different factors involved.¹⁵³ It is crucial to emphasize that the presence of honor-based violence does not mean that militant Islamism is also present or will ever occur. Having said that, it is also important to stress, as one of our informants clarified, that “where there is Salafi-jihadism, there is always also honor-based violence.” Even if honor-based violence is not initially present when individuals embark on trajectories towards militant Islamism, entering Salafi-jihadist milieus inevitably exposes them to honor-based violence. As this article demonstrates, honor culture is a core aspect of Salafi-jihadist culture, deeply integrated into interpersonal relations within families and the broader community. Therefore, honor-based violence is undoubtedly an indicator of violent Islamist extremism. Scholars have recently indicated that misogyny—not understood in simplistic ways as hatred and hostility towards women, but more broadly as policing and enforcing women’s subordination in order to uphold masculine dominance—is a gateway, driver, and early warning sign of violent extremism and terrorism, including Islamist terrorism.¹⁵⁴ By demonstrating how honor-based violence can be a precursor to militant Islamism, our article contributes knowledge in line with this research. However, we would like to emphasize that honor-based violence is a phenomenon where both men and women can be enforcers and victims, just as men and women collaborate in maintaining the family honor within a patriarchal gender order.

This article has focused on honor culture within the context of Salafi-jihadism (e.g. Islamic State, al-Qaeda, al-Shabaab, Boko Haram). However, honor culture also applies to other terror organizations founded in other directions of Islam, such as Taliban (Sunni Islam, but not Salafist), Hamas (subdivision of the Muslim Brotherhood), and Hezbollah (Shia Islam). Indeed, more research is needed to deepen our understanding of honor culture in militant Islamist milieus and how honor-based violence can constitute a mobilizing factor towards militant Islamism in all its complexity and ambiguity. As we have pointed out, militant Islamist terror organizations such as Islamic State and al-Qaeda have strategically used honor-based violence (e.g. gender-segregation, the exploitation of honor culture in recruitment of suicide bombers, “moral policing” of gender norms on social media) in their mobilization efforts. Given the fact that honor-based violence strikes at the individual freedoms and rights, thereby undermining liberal democratic values and the rule of law, and considering that the broader threat to democracy from militant Islamism at the present time is becoming increasingly salient, further research in this area seems even more urgent.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to “Moa” and “Zera.” We know it took a lot of courage for you to participate in our study. This kind of willingness is invaluable to social science research. We wish you all the best. In addition, we would like to thank Professor Mia Bloom and Dr. Sofie Danneskiold-Samsøe for valuable discussions on honor-based violence.

Disclosure Statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

The research regarding the Swedish context was supported by the Swedish Research Council for Health, Working Life and Welfare (FORTE) under grant number 2016-01119.

Notes

1 Islamic State operates in different countries. In the following text we use the abbreviation ISIS when specifically referring to Islamic State’s provinces in Syria and Iraq.

2 Quintan Wiktorowicz, “Anatomy of the Salafi Movement,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 29, no. 3 (2006): 207–39.

3 e.g., Rajan Basra and Peter R. Neumann, “Criminal Pasts, Terrorist Futures: European Jihadists and the New Crime-Terror Nexus,” Perspectives on Terrorism 10, no. 6 (2016): 25–40; Simon Cottee and Keith Hayward, “Terrorist (E)motives: The Existential Attractions of Terrorism,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 34, no. 12 (2011): 963–86; Julia Cañas-Martinez, “Networks, Marriage, and Socioeconomics: Comparing the Men and Women of the Islamic State,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism (published online 27 June 2024); Lorne L. Dawson and Amarnath Amarasingam, “Talking to Foreign Fighters: Insights into the Motivations of Hijrah to Syria and Iraq,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 40, no. 3 (2017): 191–210; Anne Speckhard and Molly Ellenberg, “ISIS in Their Own Words: Recruitment History, Motivations for Joining, Travel, Experiences in ISIS, and Disillusionment over Time – Analysis of 220 In-depth Interviews of ISIS Returnees, Defectors and Prisoners,” Journal of Strategic Security 13, no. 1 (2020): 82–127.

4 Magnus Ranstorp, Filip Ahlin, Peder Hyllengren, and Magnus Normark, “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism – påverkan mot och utmaningar för det svenska samhället” (Swedish Defence University, Stockholm, 2018); Magnus Ranstorp and Linds Ahlerup,” “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0 – påverkan mot och utmaningar för det svenska demokratiska samhället,” (Swedish Defence University, Stockholm, 2022); Anders Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck. En förstudie om skärningspunkter,” (Swedish Defence Research Agency, Stockholm, 2021); Borås Stad, “Lägesbild Norrby: Perioden 2014-2019,” (Borås Stad, Borås, 2019, Dnr. 2019-01055), https://www.document.no/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/lagesbild-norrby-rapport-2019-01055.pdf (accessed 1 October 2023); Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, “Udfordringer relateret til salafisme og jihadi-salafisme i Danmark,” (Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, Copenhagen, 2022), https://stopekstremisme.dk/publikationer/ny-rapport-om-udfordringer-relateret-til-salafisme-og-jihadi-salafisme (accessed 4 September 2023), 243, 247; Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, “Status på forebyggelse af ekstremisme i de danske kommuner 2021-2022,” (Udlændingestyrelsen, Copenhagen, 2023), https://stopekstremisme.dk/publikationer/status-pa-forebyggelse-af-ekstremisme-i-de-danske-kommuner-2021-2022 (accessed 3 October 2023), 35; Socialstyrelsen, “Våldsbejakande extremism: stöd till socialtjänstens arbete med återvändare och andra personer involverade i våldsbejakande extremistiska miljöer,” (Socialstyrelsen, Stockholm, 2020), https://www.socialstyrelsen.se/globalassets/sharepoint-dokument/artikelkatalog/ovrigt/2020-12-7073.pdf (accessed 1 October 2023), 11; GAPF, “gapf. 11 områden – 99 förslag för ett jämställt samhälle fritt från hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” (Riksorganisationen GAPF, Stockholm, 2023), https://gapf.se/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/GAPF_11-omraden-99-forslag_digital-PDF_2023-01-09.pdf (accessed 1 October 2023).

5 Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism”; Ranstorp et al., “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0”; Strindberg,” Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck”; Henriette Frees Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture: Propaganda Narratives from the Swedish Online “Sisters in Deen,”” in Salafi-Jihadism and Digital Media: The Nordic and International Context, ed. Magnus Ranstorp, Linda Ahlerup, and Filip Ahlin (London: Routledge, 2022).

6 Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism”; Ranstorp et al., “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0”; Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 51; Anne Speckhard and Molly Ellenberg,” ISIS and the Allure of Traditional Gender Roles,” Women & Criminal Justice 33, no. 2 (2023): 150–70, 166.

7 Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck.”

8 Ibid.

9 PET,” Vurderingen af terrortruslen mod Danmark” (PET, Copenhagen, 2023), https://pet.dk/-/media/mediefiler/pet/dokumenter/analyser-og-vurderinger/vurdering-af-terrortruslen-mod-danmark/vurdering-af-terrortruslen-mod-danmark-2023.pdf (accessed 1 October 2023), 12; Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism”; Ranstorp et al., “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0”; Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, “Udfordringer relateret til salafisme og jihadi-salafisme i Danmark”; “Marco Nilsson, Jihadism in Scandinavia: Motivations, Experiences, and Change (Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2022).

10 Swedish Security Service (SÄPO), “Säkerhetspolisens årsbok 2023-2024” (SÄPO, Stockholm, 2024), https://sakerhetspolisen.se/download/18.5cb30b118d1e95affec37/1708502268494/L%C3%A4gesbild%202023-2024.pdf (accessed 20 Juni 2024), 9; Swedish Security Service (SÄPO), “Säkerhetspolisens årsbok 2022-2023” (SÄPO, Stockholm, 2023), https://sakerhetspolisen.se/download/18.36cda2851868025da5b2b/1677241538918/SP_A%CC%8Arsbok_2022__Anpassad.pdf (accessed 1 October, 2023), 18-19.

11 Annual meeting 2023 “Democratic values under pressure?” Arranged by Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, Denmarks’ National Security and Intelligence Service (PET), The National Police of Denmark, and the Danish Correctional Institutions.

12 Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 12, 37–8; Regeringen, “Regeringens proposition 2019/20:131: Ökat skydd mot hedersrelaterad brottslighet,” https://www.regeringen.se/contentassets/e3a7d739e2b444e6a24a05a2db80066a/prop-201920-131.pdf (accessed 6 July 2024).

13 Quintan Wiktorowicz, Radical Islam Rising: Muslim Extremism in the West (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2005), 184; Wiktorowicz, “Anatomy of the Salafi Movement,” 207–8.

14 Wiktorowicz, “Anatomy of the Salafi Movement,” 207–8.

15 Shiraz Maher, Salafi-Jihadism: The History of an Idea (London: Hurst & Company, 2016), 7.

16 Ibid.; Wiktorowicz, Radical Islam Rising, 184; Wiktorowicz, “Anatomy of the Salafi Movement,” 207.

17 Ann-Sophie Hemmingsen, “Anti-demokratiske og voldsfremmende miljøer i Danmark, som bekender sig til islamistisk ideologi” (DIIS, Copenhagen, 2012), 30; Wiktorowicz, Radical Islam Rising.

18 Hemmingsen, “Anti-demokratiske og voldsfremmende miljøer i Danmark,” 30.

19 Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 52.

20 Joas Wagemakers, “A Purist Jihadi-Salafi: The Ideology of Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 36, no. 2 (2009): 281–97, 287.

21 Ibid.

22 Michael Cook, Commanding Right and Forbidding Wrong in Islamic Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021), 429.

23 Centre for Documentation and Counter Extremism, “Udfordringer relateret til salafisme og jihadi-salafisme i Danmark,” 16–17.

24 Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism”; Ranstorp et al., “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0”; Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 51.

25 Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism,” 16–17; Hamoon Khelghat-Doost, The Strategic Logic of Women in Jihadi Organizations. From Operation to State Building (Cham” Springer, 2021), 117.

26 Maher, Salafi-Jihadism: The History of an Idea.

27 Robert Ermers, Honor Related Violence: A New Social Psychological Perspective (New York: Routledge, 2018).

28 e.g., Ladislav Holy, Kinship, Honour, and Solidarity. Cousin Marriage in the Middle East (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1989); Frank Henderson Stewart, Honor (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994); Pernilla Ouis, “Honorable Traditions? Honor Violence, Early Marriage and Sexual Abuse of Teenage Girls in Lebanon, the Occupied Palestinian Territories and Yemen,” International Journal of Children’s Rights 17 (2009): 445–74.

29 Sofie Danneskiold-Samsøe, Yvonne Mørck, and Bo Wagner Sørensen, Æresrelateret social kontrol. Teori og praksis i socialt arbejde (Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 2019), 47–8.

30 Ibid., 46.

31 Suad Joseph, “Brother/Sister Relationships: Connectivity, Love, and Power in the Reproduction of Patriarchy in Lebanon,” American Ethnologist 21, no. 1 (1994): 50–73, 55–6.

32 Ibid.

33 Unni Wikan, Om ære (Oslo: Pax Forlag, 2008), 11.

34 Stewart, Honor, 99–103.

35 Ibid.; Danneskiold-Samsøe et al., Æresrelateret social kontrol.

36 Stewart, Honor, 99–109, 139.

37 Ibid., 139.

38 Necef, Mehmet Ümit, “Larmende tavshed” Tidsskriftet Antropologi no. 66 (2012): 79–104.

39 Clementine Van Eck, Purified by Blood: Honour Killings amongst Turks in the Netherlands (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2003); Mohammad Mazher Idriss, “Abused by the Patriarchy: Male Victims, Masculinity, “Honor”-Based Abuse and Forced Marriages,” Journal of Interpersonal Violence 37 (2022): 1905–32; Mohammad Mazher Idriss,” Not Domestic Violence or Cultural Tradition: Is Honour-Based Violence Distinct from Domestic Violence?,” Journal of Social Welfare and Family Law 39, no.1 (2017): 3–21; Danneskiold-Samsøe et al., Æresrelateret social kontrol.

40 Christine Sixta Rinehart, Sexual Jihad: The Role of Islam in Female Terrorism (London: Lexington Books, 2019), 47.

41 Ibid.

42 Christian Joppke, Veil: Mirror of Identity (Great Britain: Polity, 2009), 5–6.

43 Ibid.

44 Mehmet Ümit Necef, “Islamisk Chique,” Videnscenter om det modern mellemøsten, (2008): 1–9.

45 Idriss, “Abused by the Patriarchy: Male Victims, Masculinity, “Honor”-Based Abuse and Forced Marriages.”

46 Ibid.

47 Idriss, “Not Domestic Violence or Cultural Tradition: Is Honour-Based Violence Distinct from Domestic Violence?”

48 Ibid.

49 For discussions on this, see, for example, Ibid.; Necef, “Larmende tavshed”; Mehmet Ümit Necef, “Skrækken for kulturel forskellighed. Inspiration fra Edward Said i dansk indvandrerforskning,” Dansk Sociologi, 3, no. 20 (2009): 51–76.

50 Idriss, “Not Domestic Violence or Cultural Tradition: Is Honour-Based Violence Distinct from Domestic Violence?”

51 e.g., Rasool Awla, “Hedersmord och islam,” in Hedersmord. Tusen år av hederskulturer, ed. Kenneth Johansson (Lund: Lunds universitet, 2005); Ouis, “Honorable Traditions?,” 469.

52 e.g., Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 34; Elizabeth Pearson, “Online as the New Frontline: Affect, Gender, and ISIS-Take-Down on Social Media,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 41, no. 11 (2018): 850–74; Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture”; Nelly Lahoud, “The Neglected Sex: The Jihadis’ Exclusion of Women from Jihad,” Terrorism and Political Violence 26, no. 5 (2014): 780–802.

53 e.g., Elizabeth Pearson and Emily Winterbotham, “Women, Gender, and Daesh Radicalization,” The RUSI Journal 162, no. 3 (2017): 60–72, 66–7; Anne Speckhard and Ahmet Yayla, ISIS Defectors: Inside Stories of the Terrorist Caliphate (McLean, VA, Advances Press, 2016).

54 Ibid.

55 Khelghat-Doost, The Strategic Logic of Women in Jihadi Organizations, 92–3.

56 Lahoud, “The Neglected Sex: The Jihadis’ exclusion of Women from Jihad,” 780–81.

57 Hamoon Khelghat-Doost, “Women of the Caliphate: The Mechanism for Women’s Incorporation into Islamic State (IS),” Perspectives on Terrorism 11, no 1 (2017): 17–25; Khelghat-Doost, The Strategic Logic of Women in Jihadi Organizations.

58 e.g., Pearson and Winterbotham, “Women, Gender, and Daesh Radicalization”; Ann-Sophie Hemmingsen, “Viewing Jihadism as a Counterculture: Potential and Limitations,” Behavioral Sciences of Terrorism and Political Aggression 7, no. 1 (2015): 3–17, 3.

59 Pearson, “Online as the New Frontline: Affect, Gender, and ISIS-Take-Down on Social Media,” 860.

60 Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture,” 77.

61 Speckhard and Yayla, ISIS Defectors: Inside Stories of the Terrorist Caliphate, 84; Speckhard and Ellenberg, “ISIS and the Allure of Traditional Gender Roles,” 166.

62 Ibid.; Strindberg, “Våldsbejakande islamistisk extremism och hedersrelaterat våld och förtryck,” 51.

63 Speckhard and Yayla, ISIS Defectors: Inside Stories of the Terrorist Caliphate, 84.

64 Ibid., 93–4.

65 Ibid.

66 Khelghat-Doost, “The Strategic Logic of Women in Jihadi Organizations,” 115–17, 127–9.

67 Ibid.

68 Ibid.

69 Ibid.

70 Aaron Y. Zelin and Jacob Olidort, “The Islamic State’s Views on Homosexuality” (The Washington Institute, 14 June 2016), https://www.washingtoninstitute.org/pdf/view/3477/en (accessed 9 July 2023); Lorenzo Vidino and Alexander Meleagrou-Hitchens, “Islamist Homophobia in the West: From Rhetoric to Violence” (Program on Extremism at George Washington University, 2022), https://extremism.gwu.edu/sites/g/files/zaxdzs5746/files/IslamistHomophobiaintheWest090722.pdf (accessed 21 August 2023), 9.

71 Zelin and Olidort, “The Islamic State’s Views on Homosexuality.”

72 Ibid.; Vidino and Meleagrou-Hitchens, “Islamist Homophobia in the West,” 2–3.

73 Simon Cottee, ISIS and the Pornography of Violence (London, Anthem Press, 2019), 64.

74 Mia Bloom, “In Defense of Honor: Women and Terrorist Recruitment on the Internet,” Journal of Postcolonial Cultures and Societies 4, no. 1 (2013): 150–95; Pearson, “Online as the New Frontline: Affect, Gender, and ISIS-Take-Down on Social Media”; Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture.”

75 Bloom, “In Defense of Honor: Women and Terrorist Recruitment on the Internet,” 150, 160.

76 Ibid.

77 Ibid.

78 Pearson, “Online as the New Frontline: Affect, Gender, and ISIS-Take-Down on Social Media,” 861.

79 Ibid., 860–1.

80 Ibid., 860.

81 Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture.”

82 Ibid., 77.

83 Ibid., 82–3.

84 Ibid., 82.

85 Pearson, “Online as the New Frontline: Affect, Gender, and ISIS-Take-Down on Social Media,” 860; Cottee, ISIS and the Pornography of Violence, 105; Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture,” 69.

86 Charlie Winter, “Women of the Islamic State: A Manifesto on Women by the Al-Khanssaa Brigade” (London, Quilliam Foundation, 2015), 19.

87 Ibid.

88 Joshua M. Roose and Joana Cook, “Supreme Men, Subjected Women: Gender Inequality and Violence in Jihadist, far Right and Male Supremacist Ideologies,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism (published online 28 July 2022), 9.

89 Ibid.

90 Bloom, “In Defense of Honor: Women and Terrorist Recruitment on the Internet,” 161–2.

91 Ibid., 162.

92 Bloom, “In Defense of Honor: Women and Terrorist Recruitment on the Internet.”

93 Ibid., 179–80; Mia Bloom, Bombshell: The Many Faces of Women Terrorists (London: Hurst & Company, 2019), 223–32.

94 Bloom, “In Defense of Honor: Women and Terrorist Recruitment on the Internet,” 179; Bloom, Bombshell: The Many Faces of Women Terrorists, 224.

95 Ibid.

96 Bloom, Bombshell: The Many Faces of Women Terrorists, 285.

97 Christine Sixta Rinehart (2021): “Escaping Atonement in Sunni Islam Death by Jihad for Deliverance,” Expeditions with MCUP (published online 15 June 2021), https://doi.org/10.36304/ExpwMCUP.2021.03 (accessed 10 August 2023), 23–4.

98 e.g., Mark S. Hamm, “Using Prison Ethnography in Terrorism Research,” in Doing Ethnography in Criminology. Discovery through Fieldwork, ed. Stephen K. Rice and Michael D. Maltz (International Publishing: Springer, 2018), 195–202; Mark Hamm and Ramón Spaaij, “Paradigmatic Case Studies and Prison Ethnography: Future Directions in Terrorism Research,” in The Handbook of the Criminology of Terrorism, ed. Gary LaFree and Joshua Freilich (Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2017), 206–20; Nilsson, Jihadism in Scandinavia; Ann-Sophie Hemmingsen, “Salafi Jihadism: Relying on fieldwork to study unorganized and clandestine phenomena,” Ethnic and Racial Studies, 34, no. 7 (2011):1201–15; Simon Cottee, Black Flags of the Caribbean: How Trinidad Became an ISIS Hotspot (London: I.B. Tauris, 2021).

99 NOA,” Utsatta områden – social ordning, kriminell struktur och utmaningar för polisen,” (Nationella operativa avdelningen, Stockholm, 2017).

100 Lorenzo Vidino, Francesco Marore, and Eva Entenmann, “Fear Thy Neighbor: Radicalization and Jihadist Attacks in the West” (The International Center for Counter-Terrorism, 2017), https://www.icct.nl/sites/default/files/import/publication/FearThyNeighbor-RadicalizationandJihadistAttacksintheWest.pdf (accessed 22 September 2023), 83.

101 Linus Gustafsson and Magnus Ranstorp, “Swedish Foreign Fighters in Syria and Iraq: An analysis of opensource intelligence and statistical data” (Stockholm, Swedish Defence University, 2017), 82, 85.

102 For a recent overview see Simon Cottee, “Radicalisation Discourse: Consensus Points, Evidence Base and Blind Spots” (Commission for Countering Extremism, 2023), https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/6579aaf9095987000d95dfcb/Radicalisation+Discourse + 2.pdf (accessed 17 January 2023).

103 e.g., Hamm, “Using Prison Ethnography in Terrorism Research”; Hemmingsen, “Salafi Jihadism: Relying on fieldwork to study unorganized and clandestine phenomena”; Mehmet Ümit Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 44, no. 1 (2021): 74–92; Speckhard and Yayla, ISIS Defectors: Inside Stories of the Terrorist Caliphate; Marco Nilsson, “Interviewing Jihadists: On the Importance of Drinking Tea and Other Methodological Considerations,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 41, no. 6 (2018): 419–32.

104 cf. Elizabeth Pearson and Emily Winterbotham, “Women, Gender, and Daesh Radicalization: A Milieu Approach,” The RUSI Journal 162, no. 3 (2017): 60–72.

105 For a more detailed description of this, see Henriette Frees Esholdt and Kathrine Elmose Jørgensen, “Emotional Trials in Terrorism Research: Running Risks when Accessing Salafi-Jihadi Foreign Fighter Returnees and their Social Milieu,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 47, no. 4 (2024): 432–56; Kathrine Elmose Jørgensen and Henriette Frees Esholdt, “She Is a Woman, She Is an Unbeliever - You Should not Meet with Her,” Journal of Qualitative Criminal Justice and Criminology 10, no. 3 (2021): 1–30.

106 Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies.”

107 Because of late Swedish legislation on terrorism, only few in Sweden, compared to Denmark, have been convicted of acts relating to Islamist terrorism (not least at the time of our data collection). Therefore, we have never intended to conduct interviews with individuals convicted of terrorism in Sweden.

108 Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies.”

109 Esholdt and Jørgensen, “Emotional Trials in Terrorism Research: Running Risks when Accessing Salafi-Jihadi Foreign Fighter Returnees and their Social Milieu,” 7.

110 Jørgensen and Esholdt, “She Is a Woman, She Is an Unbeliever- You Should not Meet with Her.”

111 Ibid.

112 e.g., John Horgan, “Interviewing the Terrorists: Reflections on Fieldwork and Implications for Psychological Research,” Behavioral Sciences of Terrorism and Political Aggression 4, no. 3 (2012): 195–211; James Khalil, “A Guide to Interviewing Terrorists and Violent Extremists,” Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 42, no. 4 (2019): 429–43.

113 Margareta Hydén, “The Teller-Focused Interview: Interviewing as Relational Practice,” Qualitative Social Work 13, no. 6 (2014): 795–812.

114 Ibid., 810.

115 Ibid., 796.

116 Hamm and Spaaij, “Paradigmatic Case Studies and Prison Ethnography: Future Directions in Terrorism Research,” 215; Hamm, “Using Prison Ethnography in Terrorism Research,” 199–200.

117 e.g., Horgan, “Interviewing the Terrorists: Reflections on Fieldwork and Implications for Psychological Research,” 199-201; Simon Cottee and Jack Cunliffe, “Watching ISIS: How Young Adults Engage with Official English-Language ISIS Videos,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 43, no. 3 (2018): 183–207; Nilsson, Jihadism in Scandinavia.

118 Horgan, “Interviewing the Terrorists: Reflections on Fieldwork and Implications for Psychological Research,” 200.

119 Cottee and Cunliffe, “Watching ISIS: How Young Adults Engage with Official English-Language ISIS Videos,” 184.

120 Horgan, “Interviewing the Terrorists: Reflections on Fieldwork and Implications for Psychological Research,” 200; John Horgan, Walking away from Terrorism: Accounts of Disengagement from Radical and Extremist Movements (London: Routledge, 2009), 28.

121 e.g., Jørgensen and Esholdt, “She Is a Woman, She Is an Unbeliever - You Should not Meet with Her”; Nilsson, “Interviewing Jihadists: On the Importance of Drinking Tea and Other Methodological Considerations.”

122 e.g., Speckhard and Yayla, ISIS Defectors: Inside Stories of the Terrorist Caliphate; Marco Nilsson and Henriette Frees Esholdt, “After the Caliphate: Changing Mobilization in the Swedish Salafi-Jihadist Environment following the Fall of ISIS,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism (published online 31 July 2022); Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies.”

123 Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies.”

124 e.g., Esholdt and Jørgensen, “Emotional Trials in Terrorism Research: Running Risks when Accessing Salafi-Jihadi Foreign Fighter Returnees and their Social Milieu”; Andrea Aasgaard, “Scandinavia’s Daughters in the Syrian Civil War: What Can We Learn from Their Family Members’ Lived Experiences?,” Journal for Deradicalization 13 (2017): 243–75; Kathrine Elmose Jørgensen, ““I Don’t Justify Anything Regarding My Son:” Danish Foreign Fighters’ Initial Attraction and Reaffirmed Commitment to Islamic State and Al Qaeda – Testimonies from Five Relatives,” Terrorism and Political Violence (published online 31 May 2022).

125 Cottee, “Radicalisation Discourse: Consensus Points, Evidence Base and Blind Spots,” 21.

126 Clifford Geertz, The Interpretations of Cultures (New York: Basic Books, 1973).

127 Cottee, “Radicalisation Discourse: Consensus Points, Evidence Base and Blind Spots,” 2.

128 e.g., Jørgensen, “I Don’t Justify Anything Regarding My Son”; Kathrine Elmose Jørgensen, ““IS Drew This Dream Picture—Like Floating on a Pink Cloud:” Danish Returnees’ Entry into and Exit from Salafi-Jihadism through Nurtured and Fractured Fantasies,” Societies 12, no. 104 (2022): 1–21; Aasgaard, “Scandinavia’s Daughters in the Syrian Civil War”; Marco and Esholdt, “After the Caliphate: Changing Mobilization in the Swedish Salafi-Jihadist Environment following the Fall of ISIS”; Necef, “Former Extremist Interviews Current Extremist: Self-Disclosure and Emotional Engagement in Terrorism Studies”; Christoffer Carlsson, Amir Rostami, Hernan Mondani, Joakim Sturup, Jerzy Sarnecki, and Christofer Edling, “A Life-Course Analysis of Engagement in Violent Extremist Groups,” The British Journal of Criminology 60, no. 1 (2020): 74–92; Jeppe Fuglsang Larsen and Sune Qvotrup, “Everyday Religion and Radical Islamism – A Contribution to Theorizing the Role of Religion in Radicalization Studies,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 46, no. 12 (2023): 2521–37.

129 Esholdt, “The Attractions of Salafi-Jihadism as a Gendered Counterculture,” 72.

130 NOA,” Utsatta områden”; Ranstorp et al., “Mellan salafism och salafisisk jihadism”; Ranstorp et al., “Salafism och salafistisk jihadism 2.0”; Borås Stad, “Lägesbild Norrby,” 47.

131 Ibid.

132 For a further description of this see Esholdt and Jørgensen, “Emotional Trials in Terrorism Research: Running Risks when Accessing Salafi-Jihadi Foreign Fighter Returnees and their Social Milieu.”

133 Wiktorowicz, Radical Islam Rising, 57.

134 Danneskiold-samsøe et al., Æresrelateret social kontrol, 37.

135 Joseph, “Brother/Sister Relationships: Connectivity, Love, and Power in the Reproduction of Patriarchy in Lebanon.”

136 Ibid.

137 Rinehart, Sexual Jihad: The Role of Islam in Female Terrorism, 49.

138 Danneskiold-samsøe et al., Æresrelateret social kontrol, 37.

139 Joseph, “Brother/Sister Relationships: Connectivity, Love, and Power in the Reproduction of Patriarchy in Lebanon.”

140 Fatima Mernissi, Beyond the Viel. Male-Female Dynamics in Modern Muslim Society, (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987[1975]).

141 Dalya Cohen-Mor, “The Voyage to Manhood: The Elusive Quest,” in Fathers and Sons in the Arab Middle East, ed. Dalya Cohen-Mor (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), 43.

142 Danneskiold-Samsøe et al., Æresrelateret social kontrol, 131.

143 David Ghanim, The Virginity Trap in the Middle East (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015).

144 Ibid.

145 Ibid.

146 Ibid.

147 Ibid.

148 Ibid.; Cohen-Mor, “The Voyage to Manhood: The Elusive Quest.”

149 PET, “Vurderingen af terrortruslen mod Danmark,” 13.

150 Mustafa Kemal Topal, Women Fighters in the Kurdish National Movement: Transforming Gender Politics and the PKK (Great Britain: I.B. Tauris, 2024).

151 Ibid., 39–40.

152 Ibid.

153 Nilsson, Jihadism in Scandinavia, 4; Mohammed Hafez and Creighton Mullins, “The radicalization puzzle: A theoretical synthesis of empirical approaches to homegrown extremism,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 38, no. 11 (2015): 958–75.

154 Pablo Castillo Díaz and Nahla Valji, “Symbiosis of Misogyny and Violent Extremism: New Understandings and Policy Implications,” Journal of International Affairs 72, no. 2 (2019): 37–56.