Wearing Afghan shirts and long beards, Tunisia’s most radical Salafists from all parts of the country recently convened in Kairouan Governorate. Some of them traveled tens of kilometers on foot, while others used motorbikes or trucks, all carrying the notorious black banner, in defiance of the Ministry of Interior, (MoI), which was resolved to prevent their conference when Salafist leaders refused to apply for a legal permit— they didn’t need any party’s permission to uphold the word of Allah, they said.
Wearing Afghan shirts and long beards, Tunisia’s most radical Salafists from all parts of the country recently convened in Kairouan Governorate. Some of them traveled tens of kilometers on foot, while others used motorbikes or trucks, all carrying the notorious black banner, in defiance of the Ministry of Interior, (MoI), which was resolved to prevent their conference when Salafist leaders refused to apply for a legal permit— they didn’t need any party’s permission to uphold the word of Allah, they said.
Four days before the date set for holding the third annual conference of Ansar Al-sharia, jihadi Salafists responded to the appeal made by their clerics and leaders. Their destination was Kairouan where they planned to settle down inside Nasr Neighborhood Mosque at a suburban area which had been a strategic center and the starting point of the Islamic state in the Arab Maghreb region 14 centuries ago.
Choosing that mosque was not a mere coincidence; rather, it was out of their belief in the so-called ‘Murabata’ which is a par excellence war lexicon that means a defensive jihad and getting stationed at a borderline area threatened by infidels’ attack. It aims to defend religion, ward off enemies’ threats, and guard Muslims against impending dangers. According to jihadists, the greater the threat, the higher the reward, and the closer the defenders to Allah.
Joining the brothers
It was very difficult to get in Nasr Mosque because the organizing committee members – the guards – who wore orange shirts prevented any one, especially strangers, from joining the group, except those known by them or received by their ‘brothers’ – all jihadi Salafists look upon one another as brothers.
Hussam is a 28- year-old ex-convict. He is unemployed, with an educational level not exceeding secondary school. He lives at Sidi Hussein, a capital suburb controlled by Salafists. He does not look like other radical Salafists, although he is de facto one of them.
Caution and princes
The first night at the Murabata location was characterized by caution. They all were armed and on alert for fear of infiltrators who might reveal their plans and what was going on inside the place. Suspicion was an overriding feature among all those garrisons. The majority did not know each other, given that they came from different areas. But, they all had two things in common: creed and a long beard.
At about three o’clock in the morning, a guard climbed the stairs towards the residence hall, accommodating many times its usual capacity. He woke up the jihadists, saying, “Dawn prayer is approaching. Wake up for prayer! God bless your souls.” He only left the place when he was sure everybody had gone down to the mosque’s courtyard. There was no chance to carry on with their sleep; otherwise, they would face bitter accusations of disobeying Allah.
Each group of four to five persons swore allegiance to one of them as their appointed prince or commander who was usually more familiar with the affairs of religion and jurisprudence, learned the Koran by heart, and of course had the longest beard. His mission was to lead and guide them. He was also their spokesman in regard to contacting the guards.
Although he was deeply convinced of the concept of jihadi Salafi thought, of which ‘allegiance’ to the appointed prince of each group originated, Hussam did not like the idea of having to consult someone and getting his permission for the smallest action. Individualistic tendencies had overriding influence on his character. When asked why, he replied, “I can manage simple things on my own.”
Eternal sins
After performing the prayers, the congregation dispersed; some went back to bed, while others carried on with their worship and supplication. A few of them went out to sip coffee and smoke cigarettes at a place outside the mosque, for fear of being discovered since all principles were derived from Sharia and characterized by being rigorous and having no room for interpretation. To them, smoking was a major sin equivalent to drinking alcohol or adultery, exposing its perpetrator to penalties ranging between repentance and facing a torrent of accusations and punishment by lashing, let alone other serious volitions, like apostasy, and related punishments, including death.
Forty-year-old Ziad, the mosque prince, bitterly says it is commonly believed that committing a sin might lead to a divine punishment against all and subsequent loss of the battle against the tyrants – police, army, and government.
He believes that smoking is a major sin, based on Koranic verses, as well as a way of killing ourselves and a sin that would end up in self-defeat. “When Bin Laden was martyred, I stayed at home and languished because I was convinced that that calamity against Islam’s greatest anti-infidels fighter happened because of a sin I had committed,” said Ziad with a sad face.
Outside the mosque on the main road was a café teemed with Salafists. One of the groups which ‘disobeyed divine rules’ was eagerly discussing its upcoming battles and explaining how to face and crush the tyrants.
Bravado about crushing infidels
Their talk had much bravado, not about money or prestige, but about what they did in the face of infidels, wine drinkers and the like, as well as media figures and all those considered to be enemies of Islam. Every time one of them described how he attacked a wine shop or a police station, the audience would shout “Allahu Akbar.”
One of them was very tall, well-built and brown skinned, and he had the longest beard. He was the most aggressive of all and more enthusiastic about the forthcoming confrontation, but he nonetheless had a sense of humor. His name is Hammouda, a resident of the coastal governorate of Sousse. His brothers grew more enthusiastic when he broke the good news that a number of sturdy men from his neighborhood would soon join them, scoffing at policemen and the ill-fate awaiting them.
Obedience
That had been the last time those garrisons had left the mosque under the guards’ eyes since shortly afterwards Prince Ziad issued an order prohibiting his jihadi Salafist brothers from leaving the place lest policemen who were present in great numbers at Kairouan Governorate should attack them. The prince considered himself their guardian, and as such, he was bound by duty before God to ensure their safety.
No one dared to disobey Ziad’s orders because that would be interpreted as a flagrant disobedience of Allah. “Obedience” was the word most widely used during the speeches made by the prince or his deputy, meaning to carry out his orders without the least argument. That explains why some inveterate smokers would sneak out unnoticed, using the women’s gate to smoke some cigarettes away from the guards’ watch or the eyes of their brothers who would spare no effort to stop them.
Over my dead body
At night, Hussam decided to go out of the mosque to smoke. He flatly refused to smoke in the mosque’s toilets, considering such an act a desecration of the house of Allah. He then began making his way amid sleeping brothers who occupied the whole mosque and were resentful towards him having disturbing them.
No sooner had Hussam touched the outer gate’s knob did a brother wake up, preventing him from getting out and strongly rebuking him for disobeying Prince Ziad’s orders. “You will leave and disobey orders either over my dead body or by the prince’s order,” he said defiantly with an attitude of great loyalty to the prince.
Hussam was very angry, but he decided to back off, perhaps because he was convinced that his brother, whose accent hinted that he came from a southern town was right. So, he returned to his place of sleep.
Battle evening
On the eve of May 18, the day when the Ansar Ashariaa conference was scheduled, most of the men stayed awake. After the evening prayer, they devoted their time to supplication and asking Allah to bring them victory in their battle against tyranny, or offer them the honor of martyrdom. The gate of the mosque remained open for a half consecutive hour, as arriving crowds kept coming.
They had a deep faith in their beliefs. Their readiness to die for what they considered a defense of Islam was evident, fueled now and then by speeches delivered by clerics inside the mosque, in which they considered policemen, the army, and the government as Islam’s enemy and impending threat, scaring the group that their wives would be even taken captives in case of defeat.
Taking spoils
Taking spoils, explains Hussam, “means seizing the properties belonging to the infidels and apostates on our land, even by force.”
Elusive victory
The next morning, all attending Salafists assembled at the mosque courtyard, awaiting Prince Ziad’s decision about facing the enemy or staying entrenched inside the mosque. But, to everyone’s surprise, he proudly announced that the conference, which the interior minister had decided to ban by all means, would be held. Only a change of venue was planned, where it would be held at the Tadhamun Neighborhood, a jihadi Salafists’ stronghold on the outskirts of the capital.
The people inside the mosque shouted “Allahu Akbar” and chanted many phrases, expressing allegiance to Ansar Ashariaa leader, code-named ‘Abu Ayadh,’ who was on MoI’s wanted list. The crowd then shouted “Obama! Obama! We are all Osama.” The jubilant Salafists grew more enthusiastic and were pleased with their leadership’s deceptive plan aimed to mislead the police and the government by changing the venue of their conference without their knowledge.
That euphoria, however, did not last long because they soon learned that their brothers at the Tadhamun Neighborhood were raided by the police. So, they had a vehement desire to move to that place, but Prince Ziad did not allow them to leave before being pretty sure that that neighborhood was clear of the police who started to turn towards the capital where Ansar Ashariaa converged to attend the conference.
Restlessness then disobedience
At around three in the afternoon, a state of restlessness started to spread among some attendees. It soon turned into attempts to sneak out of the mosque, then an open desire to leave. There was no longer any need to remain barricaded inside the mosque, which created a split between a majority calling for obeying the prince’s orders to stay indoors, and others who were eager to join the confrontation zone between their brothers and the police in the capital.
As time passed and fresh news about arresting more brothers at the Tadhamun Neighborhood kept pouring in, stampeding crowds began to gather in front of the mosque doors, which were well-guarded by sturdy Salafists. But, despite their relentless efforts to stop them, they finally failed to contain the angry crowds who began to leave the place in big numbers, including Hussam. Little did they know that their leaders had postponed the conference indefinitely.
