Ashes of Hama: The Muslim Brotherhood in Syria

by Raphael Lefevre

  By tantalizing the Muslim Brotherhood’s moderates with the prospect of a settlement, Hafiz al-Assad was successful in exploiting the Islamic movement’s ideological contradictions. From Baghdad, Adnan Saadeddine’s dissident Ikhwani organization fiercely criticized the “Aleppo faction” for being lured into the regime’s negotiations trap again. His “Hama clan” continued to be financially and materially supported by an Iraqi Ba’ath regime keen, for its part, to benefit from Adnan Saadeddine’s presence in Baghdad to present itself with Islamic credentials. “For once in our lives, we were prized by the Ba’athists!”19 a leading member of Saadeddine’s group remembered with irony. In turn, the “Hama clan” strove to support Saddam Hussein in the battles he fought in the regional and international arenas. While throughout the 1980s Adnan Saadeddine repeatedly blamed the “evil” Iranian regime for its war with Iraq, he also became, in the early 1990s, Saddam Hussein’s personal envoy to the Islamic world.

  In his memoirs, Saadeddine even devoted a whole chapter to relations with Saddam’s Iraq in which he explained how close he and his “Hama clan” were to the regime in Baghdad over several years. Even though he stated that Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait had been a mistake, he explained how, when Baghdad became targeted by UN sanctions, he mounted public relations activities to persuade Islamic countries in South East Asia to support an isolated Saddam Hussein. At that point, Adnan Saadeddine’s plea in that corner of the world might even have exceeded the role of Iraqi embassies. “We arrived in the Malaysian capital at the beginning of the new year,” the leader of the “Hama clan” recounted. “Hotels were full of visitors celebrating the new year and the Iraqi Embassy envoy left us and did not accompany us to the hotel […]. We did not find anyone from the Iraqi Embassy staff to help us as they were indulging in Christmas celebrations and not feeling the stringing crisis through which their country was passing […] We made our affliction obvious but they couldn’t care less.”20 In exchange for loyalty and support in times of crisis, the Iraqi regime continued to lend its crucial support to the “Hama clan” which, in turn, enabled the group to continue its armed campaign against the Syrian Ba’ath until well after the 1986 split.21

  By 1990, the leadership of the officially-recognized branch of the Syrian Ikhwan had switched back again from Sheikh Abu Ghuddah, who at seventy years old had no more political ambitions, to Hassan al-Houeidi. Under the new leadership, efforts were made at reconciling the “Aleppo faction” with the “Hama clan”. Eventually, much of the “Hama clan” agreed to progressively rejoin the main organization throughout 1991 and 1992, aware that armed action against the regime had not led anywhere and the alliance with Iraq had somewhat constrained its autonomy. However, their historic leader, Adnan Saadeddine, was not allowed back into the wider organization. His membership of the movement had been “suspended” by the internationally-recognized faction after he had unilaterally proclaimed himself leader of the movement in 1986, and it was not restored until 2008, shortly before he died in 2010. According to Zouheir Salem, a prominent member of the “Aleppo faction”, much of the “Hama clan” agreed to rejoin the main organization in the early 1990s because they realized that the tensions inside the movement were not between Hama and Aleppo but, in reality, between the antagonistic personality of Adnan Saadeddine and the rest of the Ikhwan. “They eventually came to the realization that the problem came from within Hama,”22 he concluded.

  Back to basics: the ideological evolution

  Since the early 1990s, the history of the Ikhwan has essentially been marked by the moderate ideological footprint left upon it by the “Aleppo faction”, which stipulated that the “Hama clan” renounce the use of violence against the regime as a precondition for the 1991–92 regrouping. In that regard, the personal evolution in the views of the Ikhwan’s leader throughout the late 1990s and 2000s, Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni from Aleppo, is revealing of the movement’s progressive doctrinal moderation. Once a radical member of the “Aleppo faction” and one of the first “military commanders” of the Muslim Brotherhood, he had by the early 2000s made his newfound commitment to non-violence, the protection of minorities and the promotion of democracy, the cornerstone of Ikhwani discourse in exile. Far from being an impediment, his background as a Muslim Brotherhood hard-liner in the late 1970s in fact proved crucial in winning over the broader membership to ideas of reform and peaceful resistance. “Without Bayanouni, there would never have been a review of the Syrian Brotherhood’s policies,” a figure long close to the Ikhwani leadership argued. “He was able to carry out the reforms because he had the legitimacy of armed struggle behind him.”23 As leader (1996–2010), Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni’s first steps were to soften the image of an organization tainted by its links to the violence of the early 1980s.

  In 2001, Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni pushed Ikhwani members to adopt a National Honour Charter which condemned in unequivocal terms the use of violence against one’s own government. In addition, the document also signalled the Brotherhood’s willingness to turn the page for good in its relations with the Syrian Ba’ath. “The confrontation between Islam and Arabism is a feature of a long-gone phase and an era buried in history which resulted essentially from emotional spillage as well as misinterpretation and misunderstanding,”24 it read. Such efforts at conciliation culminated with the publication of the Muslim Brotherhood’s political project in 2004, which represented a partial attempt at acknowledging part of the Ikhwan’s responsibility for the bloody events of the late 1970s and early 1980s (see appendices for the full text).

  The document stressed that “the Muslim Brotherhood in Syria has carried out a thorough review of its policies.” It acknowledged that “we, together with large numbers of Syrian citizens, found ourselves forced to resort to self-defence in a situation of spiralling violence.”25 According to Zouheir Salem, often considered as the chief ideologue of today’s Syrian Ikhwan, the organization learned from the failure of armed struggle. “Today, we believe that the only way forward is to oppose the regime through peaceful means on the model of the organization’s historical leaders, Mustapha al-Sibai and Issam al-Attar,”26 he asserted. The Muslim Brotherhood’s discourse emphasized a willingness to return to its basics and stress the extent to which its radical and sectarian tone throughout the late 1970s should be considered as an exception instead of the rule. “Mustapha al-Sibai, Muhammed al-Mubarak, Issam al-Attar, Abdel Fatah Abu Ghuddah, Muhammed al-Hamid and many other leading Islamic figures […] presented their views in reply to other views […] but when they were met with harm and oppression, they reacted with patience and forbearance, committing themselves always to remain within the law and advocating free and fair elections,”27 an official Brotherhood document read in reference to the moderate spirit of the organization’s founders.

  The reference to “free and fair elections” is not an innovation in Syrian Ikhwani thought. As noted earlier (see Chapter 2), the organization became involved from the outset in parliamentary politics. Despite the political instability characterizing Syrian politics from 1946 to 1963, the Muslim Brotherhood’s political platform played an active and constructive role.28 However, the violence of the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the country became dominated by authoritarian rulers of Alawi Ba’athist extraction, greatly damaged the Syrian Ikhwan’s image. Ideologically, the Muslim Brotherhood’s short-lived alliance with the jihadist forces of the Fighting Vanguard led the Ikhwan to temporarily radicalize its discourse. While Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni for instance started questioning whether Marxist groupings should be allowed at all to form political parties, the radical Said Hawwa stressed for his part that “in Islam the sources of the law cannot be interpreted”29—thereby suggesting that political Islam and democracy might in fact not be so compatible.

  The confusion over the Syrian Ikhwan’s commitment to democracy, aroused after the radicalism of the late 1970s and early 1980s, started casting doubts over the sincerity of the various statements of support for democracy
by the organization during the 1990s and early 2000s. Such concerns were voiced by Hans Günter Lobmeyer. “After the failure of its religious strategy in the 1960s and the anti-Alawi strategy in the 1970s and 1980s, [the Syrian Brotherhood] is trying the democratic option in the 1990s,” he said, adding that “it is beyond the question that democracy is not the Brotherhood’s political aim but a means to another end: the assumption of power.”30 It is clear, however, that Said Hawwa, a radical Ikhwani ideologue of the 1970s, is no longer popular amongst many members of the Muslim Brotherhood. “The views of Said Hawwa do not represent the current strategy and ideology of the Ikhwan,”31 asserted the organization’s current ideologue, Zouheir Salem.

  Today, there is little doubt left about the organization’s commitment to ideas and concepts such as democracy and political pluralism. “Basic freedoms and political and civil rights are no longer a matter of debate,”32 a recent official Brotherhood document stated. In that document, there is little insistence on the need for an Islamic state in Syria. Instead, the Ikhwan stress that they are committed to participating in the emergence of what they call a “modern state” partly inspired by Western norms of democracy. The “modern state” is “one which is built upon a contractual basis in which the contract stems from an aware and free will between the ruler and the people,” “one where the respect and recognition of international charters and mandates on Human Rights form a primary backbone to acknowledging basic rights and freedoms for individual as well as societies,” “one where Emergency Laws do not substitute normal civil conditions” and “one where alternation of government prevails and where free and fair elections determine the manner in which this alternation amongst all the people culminates.” Above all, the document concludes, “the modern state is a plural state where arrays of views exist.”33 Recognizing “the other”—“religiously, politically, intellectually and culturally”34—is a key part of the Brotherhood’s ideological discourse as it seeks to distance itself from the “discourse of crisis” of the late 1970s when its sometimes sectarian overtones frightened more than one member of Syria’s religious minorities. In an effort to make this more concrete, the Ikhwan’s leader throughout the 2000s even went as far as pledging that the organization would respect election results even if a woman or a Christian were chosen as President of Syria.35

  While formally democratic, the Syrian Ikhwan’s doctrine remains deeply embedded in the ideological substance of political Islam. This means that, to this day, it rejects the notion of secularism, associated in many Ikhwani members’ minds with an attempt to counter forces linked to religion. In return, the organization does not call for the advent of a theocracy but rather for the emergence of an “Islamic civil state”—a system in which civil laws prevail in a state characterized by its Islamic culture. Zouheir Salem, the Muslim Brotherhood’s ideologue, explained the difference between “Western democracies” and the organization’s sought after “Islamic civil state”. “The emphasis put by Western democracies on the notion of secularism is natural as it results from a long struggle between society and the Church,” explained Zouheir Salem. “Since we never had such kind of struggle in Syria where Islamic law has long prevailed, we do not see any need to actively separate religion from politics.” However, he concluded, “we are keen to insist that the Islamic nature of any future state in Syria would not deprive any religious minorities from their rights as the political system and laws would remain civil and members of such communities would therefore be treated as any other equal citizen.”36 The Syrian Brotherhood’s ideological moderation is best reflected in its rejection of the Iranian theocracy and its adoption of the policies implemented by the AKP, a mildly Islamic party which has won a series of elections over the past decade in Turkey. “The AKP is neutral in the area of religion—neither does it impose religion upon Turkish citizens nor does it seek to fight religion—and for this reason we find it to be an excellent model,” explained Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni. “We cannot impose any particular way of dressing on citizens. We do call for and encourage women to wear the hijab [Islamic veil] and to follow Islamic behaviour and action but individuals must be free to choose what they want.”37

  Women’s rights, however, are one of the areas in which there remains a degree of ambiguity in Ikhwani discourse. While stressing women’s “freedom of choice” and the importance of them being granted “equal rights”, the Brotherhood’s political project emphasized at the same time that “appropriate values must be put in place to ensure that men and women continue to fulfil the mutually complementary roles God has assigned to them”38—leaving the reader free to interpret what such “appropriate values” may be.

  While coming from a moderate background, the Ikhwan’s current ideologue, Zouheir Salem, also strikes ambiguous chords when detailing his thoughts on the relationship between God’s sovereignty on Earth (al-hakimiyya) and the people’s own sovereignty. “There is a shared sovereignty between these two components,” he explained. “For us, God is sovereign on Earth and if we reach power we will therefore strive to implement His willingness, the Islamic law, as a working foundation for the Syrian state.” The Ikhwan’s ideologue, however, also stressed the primary importance of people’s sovereignty. “We cannot enforce Islamic law […] it would have to be chosen in a referendum, thereby testing people’s will.” But there remained an ambiguity. What if a freely elected assembly chose to pass a law permitting something strictly prohibited by Islamic law, such as gambling or prostitution? “The details will come later but there are certain things we cannot legislate on and these are indeed two examples of it!” he replied, while stressing that “in Western democracy there also are red lines defined by a set of principles” and that, in the Muslim Brotherhood’s case, “respect for Islamic values is our core basis.”39 Such remaining ambiguities over certain aspects of the Ikhwan’s ideology might reflect the way in which the organization remains trapped by its long-time confrontation with the Syrian Ba’ath—devoting much energy and time to voicing its commitment to democracy, non-violence and dialogue while leaving key parts of its ideological programme unachieved.

  Engaging with the Syrian opposition

  The Muslim Brotherhood’s doctrinal moderation should also be seen against the backdrop of the evolution of its relations with the Syrian Ba’ath. The organization’s official rejection of violence voiced in the 2001 National Honour Charter reflected the possibility that, with the accession of Bashar al-Assad to power in June 2000, a new page in the bloody chapter of the Ikhwan’s relations with the Ba’ath could be turned. In the late 1980s, already barely a decade after the Hama massacre, hope had been raised that a settlement of the dispute with the regime be in sight. A cable from the American Embassy in Damascus in February 1985 reported that a few hundred members of the Fighting Vanguard had returned to Syria after the regime negotiated with them through the mediation of Sa’id Shaban, a prominent Sunni Lebanese activist.40 Throughout the 1990s, Hafiz al-Assad also proceeded to release prisoners who had been accused of belonging to the banned organization, most of them in jail since the late 1970s. Out of the estimated 10,000 political prisoners, the Syrian President released 2,864 inmates in December 1991, 600 in March 1992, 554 in November 1993, 1,200 in November 1995, 250 in 1998 and 600 in November 2000.41 Relations also seemed to be markedly improving between the Syrian Ikhwan’s leadership and the Ba’athist regime. In December 1995, the Syrian authorities allowed the former Ikhwani leader Sheikh Abdel Fatah Abu Ghuddah to return to Aleppo, his city of birth, on the condition that he occupied himself only with religious and educational work while giving up all political activities. Two years later, in February 1997, upon learning that Abu Ghuddah had just passed away, Hafiz al-Assad himself sent his condolences to the Islamic scholar’s family, praising “a man who inspired respect during his lifetime,”42 in return earning the gratitude of the bereaved family.

  In this context, new mediation efforts between the Syrian Ba’ath and the Muslim Brotherhood’s l
eadership were initiated. They were carried out through the intermediary of Amin Yagan, a former prominent Ikhwan member who had distanced himself from the organization at the height of the violent confrontation. The negotiations, however, soon proved fruitless as they came to reflect the regime’s continued willingness to accentuate divisions within the Islamic movement, according to Muhammed Riyadh al-Shuqfah. When Amin Yagan was assassinated in ambiguous circumstances on 16 December 1998, the Ikhwan were quick to suspect the Ba’athist regime of having slain him and relations between the two parties deteriorated again.43

  Upon Hafiz al-Assad’s death in June 2000, brief hope was raised again that a leadership change at the top of the Syrian state apparatus would bring about a policy shift with regard to the fate of exiled Muslim Brotherhood members. From London, the leader of the organization, Ali Sadreddine al-Bayanouni, suggested that Bashar al-Assad’s coming to power could mean that the time had come for the Islamic movement to finally settle accounts with the Ba’athist regime. “Bashar has come into the weighty inheritance of decades of totalitarian rule; he does not bear responsibility for what happened in the past at Hama and in other places but only for what happens after he is sworn in [to office],”44 he then declared. Early signs seemed to indicate a certain willingness on the part of the regime to write a new chapter in its relations with the Islamic organization. According to Eyal Zisser, when in April 2001 the young President promulgated a decree ordering the issuing of one-year passports destined to encourage Syrian citizens abroad to return home to settle their affairs with the authorities, many interpreted this as a gesture indicating to Muslim Brotherhood members that they would be allowed to return to Syria as individuals. If a few of them did so, most of them nonetheless refrained from believing in the regime’s promises. They had heard stories of a handful of Muslim Brothers returning home only to be interrogated, harassed, tortured and, in certain cases, killed by the security services which asked them to fully confess to participation in the bloody events of the early 1980s. When, after a brief period of liberalization known as the “Damascus Spring”, it became clear that Bashar al-Assad had no serious intention of reforming the political system he inherited from his father, the Ikhwan started to call again for an overthrow of the Ba’athist regime. Having rejected violence, they started to form coalitions in exile with political forces distinct from theirs as a means to increase pressure on the Syrian Ba’ath from abroad, in line with the moderate spirit of their 2004 political project.