Editors’ introduction: critical terrorism studies: reflections on policy-relevance and disciplinarity

ABSTRACT

The articles in this special issue are drawn from papers presented at a workshop entitled “10 Years of Critical Terrorism Studies” and a conference entitled “Critical Terrorism Studies and Policy Relevance: Beyond Critique”. The workshop and conference were organised by the Critical Studies on Terrorism Working Group of the British International Studies Association (BISA) and were held at the BISA Annual Conference in London on 15 June 2015 and the University of Leeds from 3 to 4 September 2015, respectively. The events aimed to explore the interrelationship between Critical Terrorism Studies (CTS) and policy-relevance, with particular regard to how it shapes and challenges the very disciplinarity of CTS. These events also aimed to explore the practicalities of engaging with/learning from practitioners, while questioning the normative and ethical consequences of choosing to engage or resist orthodox parameters of policy-making and/or creating alternative spaces for engagement. The articles in this issue reflect those aims.

KEYWORDS:

• Policy-relevance
• policy-makers
• practitioners
• radicalisation
• counterterrorism
• critical terrorism studies

Introduction: critical terrorism studies and the precariousness of policy-relevance

Critical Terrorism Studies (CTS) has always had a complex relationship with “policy-relevance”. On the one hand, scholarship that is “policy-relevant” is typically derived from orthodox social science – which prioritises causal explanations of social and political phenomena – making the absorption of reflexive perspectives into elite levels of policy-making markedly difficult (see Lau 2010; Anderson 2003). Similarly, the production of policy-relevant research is often associated with an unhealthy proximity to the state, making it difficult to maintain critical distance from the structures of power that help to reify terrorism as a very particular type of threat (while foreclosing alternative conceptions of terrorism and counterterrorism that challenge the status quo; see, for example, Raphael 2009). Read thus, policy-relevance lies at the heart of the very problem-solving logic of mainstream terrorism research that distinguishes CTS as an alternative field of study, and is central to its disciplinarity. If, as Jarvis argues, it is a “common ambition towards policy-relevant research…that [has opened] considerable space for the emergence of a critical terrorism agenda” (2009, 13) how, then, can CTS positively embrace policy-relevance without sacrificing constitutive tenets of its own identity?

On the other hand, one finds that aspirations towards policy-relevance have been explicitly written into the foundations of CTS. Making the case for CTS, Gunning argues that the field should seek to “maximize [its] inclusiveness and, importantly, its policy-relevance” (2007, 365), while Jackson, Breen-Smyth, and Gunning submit that “CTS scholars will need to think through the practicalities, ethics, and modalities of negotiating the delicate balance between normatively-oriented independent scholarship… and the demands of being ‘policy relevant’” (2009b, 235). This dilemma is clearly at play in Harmonie Toros’ discussion piece (this issue), in which she reflects on her engagements with “the experts CTS has warned me about” and argues that if CTS scholars are truly committed to the notion of dialogue, then it is necessary to talk to state actors (as well as terrorists), despite the clear discomfort that such experiences may bring. If a CTS understanding of emancipation is truly about “realising the unfulfilled potential of existing structures, freeing individuals from unnecessary structural constraints, and the democratisation of the public sphere” (Jackson, Breen-Smyth, and Gunning 2009b, 224), then one may well argue that Toros’ engagement with policy-makers serves as a practical template for effective emancipatory praxis.

Richard Jackson is less hopeful on this front, however. He argues that the realm of counterterrorism policy has become so deeply embedded into a milieu of global suffering, it is, today, the very antithesis of emancipation. As such, critical scholars’ engagements with elite policy-makers associated with counterterrorism will likely serve to further legitimise and perpetuate the system, rather than contribute to its potential downfall (Jackson, this issue). For Jackson, the energy of critical scholars would be better spent on developing and enacting a “resistance studies” framework for emancipatory action, which would “reorient our academic research and practice towards the powerless, the oppressed, the subaltern, the more numerous victims of counterterrorism and state terrorism – rather than towards the powerful, the influential, the state.” Read alongside Toros, Jackson’s call elicits a powerful dilemma when it comes to CTS and policy-relevance: engage, or circumvent (the irony of which cannot be lost on scholars of terrorism and political violence).

Perhaps it is naïve, however, to assume that the choice of whether to be policy-relevant (or not) really exists in such stark terms (or at least, as it has been presented to this point), as myriad other factors must also be considered. First, there is the potential cost of not producing (or being seen to produce) policy-relevant work. Here, one must countenance the prevailing research environment in which academics are falling under increasing pressure to demonstrate the societal impact of their work which in the social sciences, is heavily tied to demonstrating policy-relevance (see, for example, Kenny 2015). Studies such as that by Hicks (2012) suggest that the rise in performance-based research funding systems, while predicated on sparking dynamic research output, may actually constrain diversity and autonomy, thus producing an ever-more crystalised gold standard of legitimate scholarship.

The dilemma for critical scholars within the realm of international affairs is that when it comes to International Relations, Security Studies and Terrorism Studies, the blueprint for this gold standard already exists. Its basis lies in the policy-orientated origins of those fields, before their respective “critical turns” helped to accelerate a widening gap between theory and practice, and before the positivist orthodoxies so definitive of policy-relevant work could be programmatically challenged (see Hoffmann 1977; Anderson 2003; Buzan and Hansen 2009; Stampnitzky 2013). From this perspective, critical scholarship is not only misguided, but actively chips away at the potential for a more unified scientific field to attract substantial research funding. To provide an example of this dynamic at play, when one examines the current debate around the US’ Frontiers in Innovation, Research, Science and Technology (FIRST) Act (HR 4186) – which seeks to apportion funding for the social sciences according to projects’ specific relevance to national security – one is struck by the almost total absence of space for critical approaches to make their claim to an annual funding pot of $7.4 billion (see Jaschik 2013; Stratford 2014a, 2014b). Scholars familiar with contemporary funding landscapes may well attest that this is but one example among many. The opportunity costs are staggering.

Second, critical scholars find themselves having to navigate increasingly constrictive spaces for the free articulation of potentially “radical” perspectives. At the time of writing, Turkey has detained (and released) 27 academics after they signed a petition calling for an end to Turkey’s “deliberate massacre and deportation of Kurdish people” (Weaver 2016). According to the Doğan news agency, all 1128 Turkish signatories of the petition are under investigation and if convicted, face between one and five years in prison over what the state has labelled “terror propaganda” (Weaver 2016). Other cases of state-led crackdowns on academic expression have also been reported in China (see Huang 2013) and Egypt (see Aboubakr 2014), to provide but two examples. Under the Counter-terrorism and Security Act (CTS) 2015, academics in the more (neo-?)liberal UK now find themselves under a statutory duty to patrol university spaces for the articulation of radical perspectives which could be linked to eventual violent extremism.

With public servants, such as prison officers, nurses and teachers falling under the same duty, the all-too-predictable consequences of this policy appear to be already impacting on the lives of the innocent. These include Mohammed Umar Farooq, who was falsely accused of being a terrorist having been spotted reading a textbook entitled Terrorism Studies in the Staffordshire University library (see Ramesh and Halliday 2015); and the un-named 14-year-old Muslim boy who was questioned about his affiliation with ISIS (by a child protection officer) after mentioning the term “ecoterrorist” during a class discussion centred on those who use violence to protect the planet (see Dodd 2015). The CTS Act surely represents the sum of many fears among critical terrorism scholars, who have spent years critiquing the government’s Prevent strategy only to see it reinforced and enacted into law (see, for example, Baker-Beall, Heath-Kelly, and Jarvis 2014; Heath-Kelly 2013; Martin 2014). Is this a de facto indictment of the ineffectiveness of critical scholarship with regard to counterterrorism policy-making at the highest level? In an environment increasingly constrictive of radical thought – both with regard to the making of policy and the effects of its enactment – how do such structural constraints affect scholars’ ability to effectively follow Toros’ template of engagement or, indeed, Jackson’s path of resistance?

Finally, the malleable nature of policy-relevance itself must also be considered. To take a broadly critical perspective, policy-relevance is sustained by complex dynamics of power; it is therefore susceptible to constant deconstruction and conceptual reconfiguration. Hence, although a basic template of “policy-relevance” already exists – and is typically sustained by embedded notions of proximity to the state and other powerful actors, as well as an orthodox social scientific onto-epistemology – critical scholarship is in a unique position to challenge these parameters and offer alternative conceptions of policy-relevance.

In the first of two interviews for this special issue, Maarten van de Donk of the EU-funded Radicalisation Awareness Network (RAN) concedes that it is often extremely difficult to ascertain the degree of influence that particular research can have at a policy level, even if it is explicitly tailored towards this purpose. In the proceeding interview, Alyas Karmani – a frontline practitioner who works with young people at risk of violent extremism – argues that the prevailing policy environment tends to overlook the unique bottom-up perspectives offered by those who operate at the coalface of “radicalisation”. Taken together, these interviews both suggest and confirm a marked disconnect between a demand and supply economy of policy-relevance. Hence, the inductive recommendations of Karmani – such as, that we need to (re-)evaluate the mental health of at-risk individuals who have engaged in violent extremism; and that “radical speakers” can actually serve as useful tools for the effective prevention of violent extremism – may seem distinctly at odds with what policy-makers are seeking. But perhaps that is the point: without the presentation of meaningful alternatives that push the boundaries of current counterterrorism practice(s), significant change cannot be realised. Read thus, the articulation of radical perspectives on policy-relevance may be precisely what is required, with CTS uniquely positioned to facilitate such narratives. This is precisely what this special issue sets out to achieve, and does so across three themes.

Policy-relevance and disciplinarity

As discussed above, a key part of this special issue involves a debate between Richard Jackson and Harmonie Toros, both of whom have been instrumental in establishing the CTS project. At the heart of this discussion is whether CTS scholars, with their normative commitments to ideas like critique, emancipation and human security should engage with the state on matters of security policy. This conversation unfolds within the political context of the War on Terror where abuses by the state in the Global South and Global North have been well documented (Blakeley 2009; Poynting and Whyte 2012). Furthermore, CTS has also produced trenchant critiques of the role of academics in reproducing state discourses on political violence and legitimising the expansion of ever-growing counterterrorism regimes in Western states and in foreign theatres of conflict (Jackson, Breen-Smyth, and Gunning 2009a). As stated previously, while Jackson and Toros share in these critiques of state violence and academics in reifying it, they diverge on how CTS can and should respond. This difference can be explained by their competing conceptions of what constitutes praxis, which forms a definitive theme for this special issue.

For Jackson, the time for attempting to work with the state to tackle issues of political violence has passed, if indeed it ever existed. The “deeply anti-emancipatory, anti-human, and regressive” abuses of the War on Terror are too great for critically minded scholars to overlook. In this respect, being “critical” demands an adherence to the type of praxis which upholds values of emancipation and creating change through principled opposition. In other words, it excludes working with state actors and lending them expertise and credibility. He argues working with the state to make small localised improvements within an overarching system of oppression is counter-productive as this will only serve further legitimise further coercion. In contrast, Toros claims that praxis should not be equated with a reductive understanding of policy-relevance where academics abandon their criticality in favour of professional advancement. Instead, her view is that CTS should work with the state in the pursuit of emancipation because they are not unitary actors but contain both “emancipatory and counter-emancipatory agendas”. Moreover, the heterogeneity of state actors, some of whom may have emancipatory agendas can be exploited to bring about wider political change. For Toros, engaging with violent political actors, be they state or non-state, is essential to having a dialogue that can transform their practices and encourage peaceful settlements.

Thus, Jackson argues for an “epistemic reorientation” of the discipline through which state violence can be met with a brutal and consistent critique. He claims, CTS scholars cannot “speak truth to power” as states are fully aware of what they do but that researchers should focus on resisting these structures. This approach would enable those in the field to consider “how our research could be useful to social movements, human rights groups, protestors, oppressed groups, and humanity at large.” Political change therefore emanates from the bottom-up. Conversely, Toros advances an ethos of “discomfort” where working alongside state actors, though complicated and potentially problematic, is nonetheless essential in working towards emancipation. Where does this leave CTS scholarship? Other contributions in this special issue seek to address some of these very questions. What kinds of actors should CTS scholars be engaging with and to what political end? What is currently missing from CTS research? What other areas of political, public and social life contain possibilities of dialogue or resistance precluded by the tendency to focus on state actions and policy? The conversation between Jackson and Toros establishes a useful polemic in which to situate such inquiries.

Victims, practitioners, policies

In this theme, the interview with Maarten van de Donk of the EU-funded Radicalisation Awareness Network (RAN) – an EU-wide umbrella network of practitioners engaged to prevent and counter radicalisation to violent extremism – provides insight into the contemporary landscape of preventive policy-making in Europe. As a policy-practitioner, van de Donk focuses on the positive capacity of knowledge-exchange networks to enhance policy-makers’ understanding(s) of radicalisation, suggesting an environment whereby – as also intimated by Karmani – policy-makers are becoming more attuned to the need for a change in approach (although whether this manifests itself in concrete political action remains to be seen). Van de Donk provides an “insider’s” perspective on a number of important topics that critical scholars have tended to critique from the outside, not least: the pressures and expectations that accompany research funding; the lack of an encompassing perspective on “radicalisation” that combines insights from a range of contributors (including frontline practitioners, academics and policy-professionals); and, the need among many policy-makers to consistently prove that their preventive work is being effective. Van de Donk’s honest assessment proceeds through the minutiae of a world that is often closed to critical scholars; thus, while his reflections on radicalisation may not surprise at the conceptual level, they illuminate the processes by which policy is both made possible and constrained – or in this case, what a problem-solving logic might look like from the inside-out:

The difficult point for preventive work always is to prove that you are effective… If you see the sense of urgency now from a lot of policy-makers – and that so much money is being spent on “radicalisation” – I think the expectations are very high. So there’s always that chance that people will say: “well, we’re very disappointed with you, because you haven’t solved the problem”. (Van de Donk, this issue)

In the other interview, Alyas Karmani focuses intently on the human components of violent extremism. Quite opposed to many popular narratives around radicalisation, Karmani contends that the UK’s PREVENT strategy not only serves as a potential push factor towards eventual engagement in violent extremism, it actively hinders practitioners’ efforts to prevent at-risk individuals from entering precisely those radical spaces that PREVENT seeks to close off. Drawing from his rich experiences on the ground, Karmani cautions that many of the current government-led initiatives to counter and prevent violent extremism are hopelessly misled, insofar as they tend to either ignore or exacerbate what he believes to be three key determinants towards violent extremism: the emotional and psychological well-being of at-risk individuals; the marginalisation of at-risk individuals within increasingly polemic societies; and, the fallout from Western states’ foreign policy in the Middle East and North Africa. In this environment, groups such as ISIS can generate powerful pull factors, predicated on the fact that unlike those responsible for the making of preventive policies, “ISIS really seem to have nailed the zeitgeist around Generation Y, in terms of understanding what makes them tick and the issues that are affecting them.”

Karmani’s understanding of “radicalisation”, then, is not one defined by ideological attraction – as opposed to conveyer belt theories which typically underpin much contemporary counterterrorism policy – but one determined by those frailties and vulnerabilities that make “radicals” human. Ultimately, he argues that effective preventive policies must accommodate community practitioners to work without fear of being labelled as extremist themselves; they must be allowed to provide safe spaces where at-risk individuals can articulate social and political grievances without fear of censure of prosecution; and, finally, policy-makers must wake up to the fact that current preventive practices are simply not working. Despite these difficulties, Karmani ends on a cautiously optimistic note, identifying glints of hope, which suggest – as van de Donk also suggests – that policy-makers are beginning to accept that change is required. Perhaps more inclusive policies will follow in the future; if they do, the contribution of frontline practitioners such as Karmani will be invaluable in navigating the delicate balance of acting to prevent violent extremism without intensifying the social and political fissures that provide it sustenance.

Will McGowan’s article is similarly focused on the human elements of policy-relevance, highlighting the lack of attention paid to victims of terrorism, both in CTS and beyond. He stresses the importance of CTS research and the practice of individual scholars in challenging hegemonic narratives of terrorism, which promote violence, marginalisation and inequality. He does so by returning to some of the primary tenets of CTS including emancipation, dissent and giving voice to those who are voiceless in debates on terrorism and counterterrorism as suggested by Jackson (this issue). McGowan contends victims of political violence, who are utterly central to contemporary discursive constructions of terrorism, are overlooked both in public debates and policy-making. Furthermore, CTS – as a sub-discipline dedicated to bringing marginalised voices to the fore – has not attended to the constitutive role of victims in the policy and practice of counterterrorism. For McGowan, this has involved co-opting victims into simplistic binaries of “us” and “them” where they function as legitimators of the continuing War on Terror. David Cameron’s recent remembrance of the victims of 7/7 within the context of attacks on British tourists in Tunisia is a case in point. McGowan also points to the example of the murdered fusilier Lee Rigby who has become part of the iconography of the far-right organisation, Britain First. The conclusions drawn from this reinforce the critical potential of CTS in giving voice to those victims who are “spoken about but not to”. In doing so, the author argues CTS can continue to shed light on the taboos of the War on Terror including, in this case, the supposed hierarchy of victimhood where white Western bodies take precedence over non-Western ones. Pointing to the examples of John Tulloch, Jim Swire, and Lee Rigby’s family, McGowan demonstrates how these victims have come to be highly critical voices question both counterterrorism policies and the Islamophobic sentiment which underpins them.

Imagination and emancipation: alternative realms of engagement?

In the final theme of this special issue, Priya Dixit, Adrian Hänni, Gareth Mott and Louise Pears push the theoretical boundaries of how scholars can understand the intersection between emancipation, policy-relevance and the role of CTS. While the “state” and its policy-making capacity might be a recognisable object of critique, other less obvious but important legitimators of the War on Terror are overlooked as a result. These articles provide an overview of research which scrutinises popular television shows, constructions of “cyber-terrorism”, “hyperreal” narratives regarding Libyan death squads and objects like the “Counterterrorism calendar” in creating conditions for the perpetration for structural violence. As such, they expand the potential for policy-relevant critique within CTS, but also make visible key sites of resistance otherwise ignored. The thread which links these pieces is their preoccupation with how political identities are imagined or fantasised and become manifest in multifarious ways.

Mott’s contribution, “Terror From Behind the Keyboard: Conceptualising Faceless Detractors and Guarantors of Security in Cyberspace”, argues for a deeper engagement with the notion of “cyber-terrorism.” Though a much talked about phenomena within academic scholarship and which is listed as a “Tier One” threat to UK national security by the government, Mott describes cyber-terrorism as an “empty signifier,” which acts as a site of fantasy in which the character of security threats are imagined. Drawing on the work of Waever (1995) and securitisation theory, the author suggests the securitisation of “cyber-space/terrorism” through such fantastical imagining produces the binary identities of “faceless detractors of security” and “faceless guarantors of security”. The former represents nefarious actors attempting to breach the cyber security of Western states and the former, the intelligence agencies such as MI5 and GCHQ trying to prevent them. The opacity of the Internet not only serves as a veil for “faceless” intelligence agencies in gathering information, but is also simultaneously weaponised against them by equally “faceless” terrorists. Therefore, the ability of GCHQ to perpetrate mass surveillance through programmes such as “Tempora” is the product of deep securitisation: at once necessary and then largely uncontested by the British public. However, by making explicit the role of fantasy in producing and sustaining illegal state practices Mott contributes to the politicisation of cyber-terrorism. This allows for it to become a potential site of political resistance by CTS scholars in the future.

Adrian Hänni also draws on ideas regarding fantasy, using Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality to explain how a story regarding so-called “Libyan hit squads” attempting to assassinate President Ronald Reagan circulated in the US in the 1980s. Using now declassified documents from the Reagan library, the author relays how the rumour was “planted in the US media through fabricated intelligence documents, […] traced to a small group of officials within the Reagan administration who tried to gain public support for the US government’s policy towards Libya.” Hänni lays bare the way in which this falsified intelligence and the claims it contained were uncritically accepted by major news outlets and repeated ad nauseum in the period following their release. Furthermore, the implications of creating this spectacle had very specific political benefits for the Reagan administration, including the legitimation of a hostile Cold War policy toward Libya and other supporters of “international terrorism.” Like Mott’s article, Hänni deconstructs the way fantasy has become a key part of “selling” particular narratives which bear very tangible political effects; a dynamic of particular relevance when it comes to the creation and enactment of counterterrorism policy.

Louise Pears brings the insights of Cultural Studies and Critical Security into the special issue, providing an unconventional yet crucial insight on the relationship between disciplinarity, policy-relevance and CTS. Pears’ contribution is embedded within the context of increasing attention paid to the realm of popular culture within the fields of International Relations and Critical Security Studies. The article examines how, then, the medium of television has become an integral forum through which subjects make sense of terrorism in a post-9/11 context. Focusing on the popular TV show Homeland, the author explores how audience receives representations of terrorism, Muslims and the CIA, for example, through the use of focus group interviews. Her article finds significant audience resistance to the deeply gendered and racialised identities of key characters and plots; these are not uncritically accepted by viewers but become part of a “broader debate around terrorism”. Interestingly, Pears discusses her difficulty in recruiting Muslim viewers of Homeland for her focus groups because of popular suspicion of the show and its depiction of their faith. Their viewing experience is already “prefigured” by their racial and religious identities. The article demonstrates that Muslims do not have the same space as non-Muslims in which to articulate resistance to dominant discourses of terrorism (something which is also touched upon in the interviews with van de Donk and Karmani). Their experience of Islamophobia and racism post-9/11 excludes them from “conceptual and distant” conversations regarding terrorism. Like Mott, Pears is able to show how a television show, which would not be the object of research narrowly focused on policy-relevance, reproduces key War on Terror tropes but can again become a site of resistance – as the focus group interviews demonstrate.

Finally, Priya Dixit, applying a postcolonial approach, also outlines how racialised identities of Arabs and Muslims enables the securitisation of the violence they commit as “terrorism” while gun crime perpetrated by right-wing extremists, which though more lethal, is dismissed. She examines the production of these identities through the Counterterrorism Calendar and the Militant Imagery Project (MIP) as key sites of meaning-making regarding “jihadis.” Her overarching argument is that creating an equivalence between people of colour and militants leads to the securitisation and then exclusion of Muslims from the American body politic. Furthermore, such a move erases the complicated history of US and Western involvement in global politics and their complicity in contributing to conditions of violence. The presence/absence of Western foreign policy is central to CTS’ critique of orthodox perspectives on terrorism and bears obvious implications for policy-relevance; Dixit’s incorporation of postcolonialism not only helps to shed new light on this dynamic, it concomitantly pushes the boundaries of CTS into new, exciting spaces and enriches its disciplinarity. It is a direction that CTS scholars will surely follow into the future.

Conclusion

Returning to the foundation(s) of Critical Terrorism Studies, Gunning submits that the challenge of a critically constituted field is not only to wield critique and deconstruction against the orthodoxy, but to “also engage with policy makers – and “terrorists” – and work towards the realization of new paradigms, new practices, and a transformation, however modestly, of political structures.” (2007, 387). Almost ten years on, an increasingly mature body of CTS scholarship has addressed these avenues in myriad ways, yet this is the first time that policy-relevance has been tackled in such a concentrated manner. Owing to the nature of critical scholarship, the pieces in this special issue are diverse, yet tied together by familiar themes of resistance, reflexivity and probing critique. The question of whether CTS scholarship should be more or less “policy-relevant” (if at all) is integral to its disciplinarity and will continue to be so long beyond this special issue; indeed, it is neither prudent nor possible for CTS to adopt any universalising posture in this regard. Yet, in the midst of these debates, we should not forget that whatever one’s position on its potential merits, the enactment of policy yields incredible effects on the lives of those variously associated with terrorism: including victims, ordinary citizens, and “terrorists” themselves. As a meaningful topic of inquiry, policy-relevance is, then, is perhaps more essential than most.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

James Fitzgerald

James Fitzgerald is Lecturer in Terrorism Studies at the School of Law and Government, Dublin City University and co-convenor of the BISA Critical Studies on Terrorism Working Group. His current research interests include everyday resistances to (counter)terrorism; the political ontology of terrorism; and exploring (in)orthodoxies of “academic writing” and the types of knowledge produced thereof.

Nadya Ali

Nadya Ali is a Sessional Lecturer in Politics at the University of Reading. She is currently a co-convenor of the BISA Critical Studies on Terrorism Working Group. Nadya has published on topics including the female jihad, counter-radicalisation in the UK and UK mosque reforms in the last decade.

Megan Armstrong

Megan Armstrong is co-convenor of the BISA Critical Studies on Terrorism Working Group. Her main research interests focus on examines the role of the sexualised body in violent identity politics.