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Blackwater USA | Daily Brief

Happy Halloween!

IS

  • IS named Abu Ibrahim al-Hashimi al-Qorashi as its new leader—and thus gave Western militaries a new target.
  • Western analysts don’t seem to know who Qorashi is (and his name may actually be an alias to conceal his identity), but the “Hashimi” part suggests that he’s descended from the Prophet Mohammad’s Banu Hashimi tribe. That’s significant, because hardcore Islamic theologians insist that only a descendent of Mohammad can become caliph. It also implies the council that nominated him is taking Islamic scripture seriously [though they still called him a “caliph,” even though IS no longer has any land to govern, and the same theologians generally agree that a leader can’t be a “caliph” without a “caliphate”].
  • I’ve pasted below a March 2015 Atlantic article by a journalist/researcher friend of mine that I think is still the best analysis I’ve read of IS’s theology, drivers, and demands…given that most of it is rooted in thoughts from over a millennium ago, I doubt it’s changed much since 2015.

Syria

  • Meanwhile, 150 delegates from Syria’s government, opposition movement, and civil society (an even 50 from each, in the typical Levantine style of allocating representation equally among competing stakeholders) are meeting in Geneva to draft a new Syrian constitution. This is the first I’ve heard of it, so I’m not sure how serious of an effort it’ll be.

DPRK

  • Angry that talks with the U.S. have stalled, North Korea fired two missiles into the ocean to its east today. These don’t seem like significant launches—they’re probably just another Kim Jong Un temper tantrum.

RSS

  • There were a few negative news stories about South Sudan this week. First, Human Rights Watch reported that three International Organization for Migration (IOM) aid workers were killed in the crossfire between government troops and the National Salvation Front rebel group in Morobo, Central Equatoria; another aid worker and the four-year-old son of one were abducted, too.
  • Then, South Sudan’s media authority revoked the press accreditation for the AP’s Sam Mednick—who was one of few foreign journalists working in the country—in retaliation for critical stories she wrote that the AP rightfully stands by. She was one of the most helpful sources for information on how the unity government / peace deal is progressing, so it’ll be harder to follow that topic after her deportation.
  • Pres. Kiir also declared a state of emergency in the Bahr el Ghazal and Upper Nile regions, where floods have displaced over one million people (of 12.5 million in the country).

Afghanistan

  • Another HRW story reported that CIA-trained Afghan strike forces have committed egregious war crimes against civilians, citing several examples that dozens of media outlets have jumped on to reiterate their criticism for the war. The original HRW post is pasted below.

Hong Kong

  • Hong Kong’s economy didn’t just slip into recession: it had the biggest quarter-over-quarter contraction since 2009 (3.2%) because of protests that have stalled business.

U.S.

  • The Federal Reserve cut target interest rates for the third time this year, but signaled it was done with cuts for a while—unless it sees a sharp slowdown.
  • The U.S. House voted almost precisely along party lines to approve a resolution that defines the process the impeachment inquiry will follow. Frustrated Republicans started shouting “objection!” as it was passed, but that didn’t help their case.
  • Twitter said it would ban political ads on its platform—striking a contrast with Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s insistence during Congressional testimony last week that Facebook isn’t responsible for policing ads. Twitter definitely has less to lose by banning political ads, since it makes far less revenue from them than Facebook does.
  • The Chicago teachers’ union ended its strike after 11 days, upon agreeing to one final term: that five of the 11 days lost will be made up.

Other News

  • Fiat Chrysler and Peugeot-maker PSA announced a merger along the lines the WSJ had anticipated. It would the world’s fourth-largest carmaker (by # of cars). Peugeot’s share prices fell on the news, though, so it may not get approved by shareholders.
  • At least 73 people died on a train from Karachi to Rawalpindi, when a gas cylinder that passengers were using to cook breakfast exploded. Most of the casualties reportedly died when they tried to jump from the moving (and burning) train.

“They’ve Shot Many Like This” (HRW)

Abusive Night Raids by CIA-Backed Afghan Strike Forces

Through much of 2019, the United States government and Taliban insurgents were engaged in negotiations toward an agreement that could lead to the eventual withdrawal of US forces in Afghanistan. Those negotiations officially halted, at least temporarily, on September 7, 2019. In the absence of a larger political settlement, any agreement between the US and Taliban would not end the armed conflict between the Afghan government and the Taliban, nor resolve a range of conflicts that have fueled fighting among various Afghan factions for over four decades. If there is a political settlement, the kind of Afghan government that emerges, the structure of the country’s defense forces, and the extent to which existing militia and insurgent forces demobilize and disarm will all be critically important.

One glaring omission in the negotiations so far has been discussion of the future of clandestine Afghan forces operating as part of the covert operations of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) in Afghanistan, with ground support from US special forces seconded to the CIA and air support from the US military, including intelligence and surveillance in the identification of targets. A number of US military officials have sought to retain these Afghan paramilitary forces in Afghanistan as a bulwark against Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State (also known as ISIS). These troops include Afghan strike forces who have been responsible for extrajudicial executions and enforced disappearances, indiscriminate airstrikes, attacks on medical facilities, and other violations of international humanitarian law, or the laws of war.

Among the recent cases Human Rights Watch has documented:

In March 2018, Afghan paramilitary forces raided the home of a staff member of an Afghan nongovernmental organization (NGO). The forces arrived late at night at the family compound and separated the women from the men. They singled out the staff member’s brother and took him to another part of the house. They shot him, leaving the body, and left with another male family member, whom the government later denied holding.

In October 2018, an Afghan paramilitary force unit raided a home in the Rodat district of Nangarhar province, shooting dead five civilian members of one family, including an elderly woman and child.

In December 2018, the Khost Protection Force fatally shot six civilians during a night search operation in Paktia province. They shot Naim Faruqi, a 60-year-old tribal elder and provincial peace council member, in the eye, and his nephew, a student in his 20s, in the mouth.

These are not isolated cases. This report documents 14 cases in which CIA-backed Afghan strike forces committed serious abuses between late 2017 and mid-2019. They are illustrative of a larger pattern of serious laws-of-war violations—some amounting to war crimes—that extends to all provinces in Afghanistan where these paramilitary forces operate with impunity.

In the course of researching this report, Afghan officials, civil society and human rights activists, Afghan and foreign healthcare workers, journalists, and community elders all described abusive raids and indiscriminate airstrikes as having become a daily fact of life for many communities—often with devastating consequences. Speaking to Human Rights Watch, one diplomat familiar with Afghan strike force operations referred to them as “death squads.”

Afghan paramilitary forces nominally belong to the Afghan National Directorate of Security (NDS), the country’s primary intelligence agency. However, these forces do not fall under the ordinary chain of command within the NDS, nor under normal Afghan or US military chains of command. They largely have been recruited, trained, equipped, and overseen by the CIA. They often have US special forces personnel deployed alongside them during kill-or-capture operations; these US forces, primarily Army Rangers, have been seconded to the CIA. Afghan paramilitary strike forces generally carry out operations with US logistical support and are dependent on US intelligence and surveillance for targeting.

Search operations in Afghan villages to “kill or capture” insurgents conducted at night (“night raids”) have long raised controversy in Afghanistan because they frequently harm civilians and civilian property. Nonetheless, there has been a sharp increase in these operations since late 2017.

In 2017, in a departure from previous policy, the US authorized Afghan special forces, including these paramilitary units, to call in airstrikes for support even without US forces present to identify the targets. Changes to targeting directives have meant that airstrikes are hitting more residential buildings, while a decreased US ground presence and a reliance on local Afghan intelligence sources has meant there is less information available about the possible presence of civilians in those buildings.

Taliban forces have frequently committed violations of the laws of war and human rights abuses, including indiscriminate attacks that have killed and injured civilians, as well as using civilians as shields. Afghan National Defense and Security Force (ANDSF) officials and their US counterparts contend that night raids backed by air operations are necessary in a war in which insurgent forces deploy among the civilian population. But Taliban forces unlawfully putting civilians at risk does not justify Afghan and US military operations that cause indiscriminate or disproportionate loss of civilian life, nor attacks on medical facilities. The deliberate killing of civilians or combatants in custody is never lawful.

In many of the night raids that Human Rights Watch investigated, Afghan paramilitary forces seem to have unlawfully targeted civilians because of mistaken identity, poor intelligence, or political rivalries in the locality.

Faulty Intelligence

In many cases, paramilitary units apparently targeted houses for night raids or airstrikes based on intelligence that family members had provided food to Taliban or ISIS insurgents (often under duress); were nearby when insurgents carried out attacks on government forces; or may have had political or tribal links that made them susceptible to local rivalries and false accusations of links with insurgent groups.

Guilt by Association

In some cases, these paramilitary forces targeted medical staff working in clinics in contested or Taliban-controlled areas because they treated wounded insurgents. Civilians in these areas also described living in fear that the near constant presence of drones, aircraft, and helicopters searching for insurgents who live in their villages left them vulnerable to being targeted at any time as fighters.

Willful Violation of the Law

In many cases, paramilitary strike forces summarily executed persons taken into custody or forcibly disappeared them, not telling their families about their fate or whereabouts. In none of the cases Human Rights Watch investigated did the civilians who were killed offer resistance or act in any way that justified the use of force.

Failure to Investigate

Under the laws of war, the government has an obligation to investigate alleged war crimes by its forces and appropriately prosecute those responsible. Neither the Afghan military nor the government has developed any meaningful capacity to investigate possible violations arising from their military operations, despite years of training by the US and others. They lack both the capacity and the political will to investigate incidents involving these CIA-backed paramilitary forces.

In the very few cases in which the Afghan government has promised to investigate incidents, no findings have been made public. We are unaware of any cases in which those responsible for serious crimes, including murder, have been held to account, nor have the victims been able to obtain redress. Foreign forces taking part in military operations are also obligated to investigate alleged wrongdoing. As a matter of policy, the US military does not respond to questions about clandestine operations.

At their core, the behavior of these Afghan paramilitary forces reflects the propensity of the US and Afghan governments to prioritize short-term military fixes over long-term reforms that would promote security and the rule of law. As these forces commit serious abuses without accountability, they foster an environment that contributes to, rather than reduces, general lawlessness and distrust of the government in the areas in which they deploy.

Even though the paramilitary strike forces operate outside of the usual Afghan military chain of command and have repeatedly been involved in rights abuses, official calls to preserve them remain strong. Ultimately, the strike forces are just the latest manifestation of US and Afghan government attempts since 2001 to unleash forces largely unbound by the laws of war in a counterproductive approach to combatting insurgency, from the Taliban to Al-Qaeda to ISIS. Rather than bringing stability to Afghanistan, they have undermined Afghan institutions and put many Afghans at risk.

Recommendations

All parties to the armed conflict in Afghanistan, including insurgent forces, are obligated to abide by international humanitarian law, or the laws of war. Specifically, the laws of war prohibit deliberate or indiscriminate attacks on civilians and civilian structures, including medical workers and facilities; summary executions of anyone in custody; and enforced disappearances, including secret detention.

To the Government of Afghanistan

  • Immediately disband and disarm all pro-government armed groups, paramilitary strike forces, and militias, including National Directorate of Security strike force units, the Khost Protection Force, and other counterinsurgency forces that are not under the Afghan National Defense and Security Forces chain of command. Only incorporate such forces into the ANDSF following a robust vetting procedure to screen out individuals against whom there are credible allegations of war crimes.
  • Cooperate with independent investigations into these allegations, including those carried out by the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, in order to facilitate accountability.Cooperate with independent investigations into these allegations, including those carried out by the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, in order to facilitate accountability.
  • Promptly and impartially investigate existing allegations of secret detentions and enforced disappearances, locate and release those unlawfully held, and prosecute those responsible, including as a matter of command responsibility.
  • Take all necessary measures to end attacks on medical personnel and medical facilities, including those providing care to suspected insurgents.
  • Investigate all serious allegations of violations of human rights and the laws of war, and appropriately prosecute those responsible for war crimes.
  • Investigate military operations that result in civilian casualties to provide an effective feedback mechanism to reduce civilian casualties in the future.
  • Provide timely and appropriate compensation to civilians harmed in unlawful attacks.

To the Government of the United States

  • Clarify command responsibility for operations by Afghan paramilitary strike forces, NDS special forces, the Khost Protection Force, and other Afghan counterinsurgency forces.
  • In all circumstances, comply with international humanitarian law standards to protect civilians from the dangers arising from military operations. These include prohibitions on attacks against civilians and civilian objects, indiscriminate attacks, and attacks that cause harm to civilians or civilian objects that are excessive in relation to the anticipated military advantage.
  • Cooperate with independent investigations into these allegations, including those carried out by the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, in order to facilitate accountability.
  • US forces should, in all instances, take all appropriate steps to prevent or stop Afghan forces deployed with or under the command of US forces from committing violations of international human rights and humanitarian law. Those who do should be turned over to the proper Afghan authorities for disciplinary action or criminal prosecution.
  • Assist Afghan investigations into alleged secret detentions and enforced disappearances.
  • Press the Afghan government to promptly and impartially investigate alleged serious violations of human rights and the laws of war.
  • Investigate alleged war crimes involving the participation of US forces, and appropriately prosecute or transfer for prosecution US personnel implicated in war crimes.
  • Restore safeguards prohibiting US airstrikes in densely populated areas unless the intelligence is highly reliable and US forces have visually identified the target and made an on-the-ground assessment of the presence of civilians.
  • Provide accurate information on civilian casualties in military operations, and refrain from denying responsibility for civilian loss before a thorough investigation has been conducted.
  • Conduct immediate and transparent investigations of airstrikes in which there are civilian casualties, and publicly report the findings.
  • Rebuild the capacity of the Resolute Support civilian casualty mitigation units to monitor, investigate, and publicly report on all incidents of civilian casualties.
  • Provide timely and appropriate compensation or ex gratia (condolence) payments to civilians harmed in operations involving US forces.

To the Taliban and Other Insurgent Forces

  • Take all feasible measures to protect civilians from the effects of attacks, and, to the extent feasible, remove civilians from the vicinity of insurgent forces.
  • Avoid deploying forces within or near densely populated areas.
  • Cease the requisition of food and other private property through threats and the use of force and without payment.

Methodology

Human Rights Watch conducted research for this report in Afghanistan between November 2017 and August 2019. Human Rights Watch researchers interviewed 39 local residents and other witnesses to night raids in Ghazni, Helmand, Kabul, Kandahar, Nangarhar, Paktia, Uruzgan, Wardak, and Zabul provinces. We identified incidents on the basis of reports from local media and Afghan NGOs tracking civilian casualties. We also interviewed staff at Afghan human rights groups who have documented these raids, and NGO officials whose Afghan staff have been caught up in raids. Most interviews were conducted in Dari and Pashto. Some of the interviews were conducted by telephone.

All of the witnesses with whom we spoke were informed of the purpose of the interview and the ways in which the information would be used, and were offered anonymity in our reporting. This report withholds identifying information for most interviewees to protect their privacy and security. None of the interviewees received financial or other incentives for speaking with us.

Human Rights Watch also interviewed staff members of Afghanistan-based NGOs and international humanitarian organizations, representatives from the United Nations, journalists, and military analysts familiar with Afghanistan’s security institutions and oversight of special forces operations.

In August 2019, Human Rights Watch asked the Afghan government and US military for information, including any investigations into the incidents documented in this report, and for their comments. Responses from the US Forces-Afghanistan and Resolute Support and from the CIA are included in appendices to this report.

I. Extrajudicial Killings by CIA-Backed Afghan Special Forces

United States and Afghan security force operations in Afghanistan are claiming the highest civilian toll in more than a decade. According to the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA), international and Afghan government forces caused more civilian deaths than the Taliban and other insurgent groups in Afghanistan in the first six months of 2019.[1] Airstrikes, many of which hit residential buildings, have been the leading cause of these deaths, but UNAMA also noted a 79 percent increase in civilian casualties from search operations conducted by Afghan paramilitary strike forces as of mid-2019.[2]

Role of US Personnel in Kill-or-Capture Operations

Kill-or-capture operations conducted at night (“night raids”) have long been a controversial military tactic in Afghanistan.[3] Soon after the US-led invasion of Afghanistan in late 2001, the Central Intelligence Agency recruited forces from among existing anti-Taliban militias to conduct kill-or-capture operations as an early feature of US special forces operations after 2001.

Such raids increased during the “surge” of 2009-2010 that brought 50,000 additional US troops to Afghanistan.[4] Between December 2010 and February 2011, US special forces, often accompanying Afghan government forces, carried out on average 19 night raids per night.[5] Following public protests in Afghanistan and criticism from human rights organizations about rising civilian casualties in these operations, as well as concerns for rising numbers of deaths of US special forces personnel, the US military in 2011 cut back the involvement of its special forces in night raids.[6] In subsequent years, however, the CIA expanded its recruitment and training of Afghan paramilitary units to work with CIA operatives to carry out kill-or-capture operations.[7]

According to the New York Times, Afghan paramilitary strike force units recruited, trained, equipped, and overseen by the CIA operate “in a parallel mission to the United States military’s, but with looser rules of engagement,” in which Afghan security institutions maintain only a “liaison relationship.”[8] The development of these strike forces is linked to the US military’s practice of lending US special forces to the CIA through a program initially known by the code name Omega.[9] Although Afghan forces “are doing the assaulting and the killing and the capturing,” US special forces, principally US Army Rangers, are often, but not always, deployed alongside them.[10] Even where no US forces take part in the operation, the US military often provides logistical and tactical support to these CIA-backed operations, including planning, delivering the forces to the location via helicopters, and providing air support.[11]

CIA-Backed Covert Afghan Paramilitary Forces in Afghanistan

From the initial weeks after the September 11, 2001 attacks on the US, the CIA worked with existing Afghan anti-Taliban forces and recruited new Afghan militias to pursue Al-Qaeda militants.[12] The early versions of these paramilitary strike forces were in place and operating as part of the CIA’s covert operations before other US ground forces arrived in Afghanistan in November 2001, before the Bonn Agreement was signed in December 2001, and more than a year before the Afghan National Army was created in December 2002.[13]

Since 2001, the CIA has maintained a counterterrorism operation in Afghanistan parallel to the US military operation.[14] Some US special forces personnel have been seconded to this CIA operation over the years, initially under the Omega program which began in 2001.[15] The CIA counterterrorism operation, which falls under different US legal authorities than the US military operation, has continued to recruit, equip, train, and deploy Afghan paramilitary forces in pursuit of Al-Qaeda and Taliban forces, and, after 2014, militants affiliated with ISIS. CIA officers from the agency’s Special Activities Center oversee operations along with operatives from Afghanistan’s intelligence agency—the National Directorate of Security, which was established by the CIA in 2002—outside of the ordinary NDS chain of command.[16] The operations include elite US troops from the Joint Special Operations Command, generally Army Rangers, and contractors.[17] The majority of the forces taking part in these operations are Afghan.[18]

The earliest of these Afghan forces, the Khost Protection Force (KPF), has operated since the mid-2000s, and the Kandahar Strike Force (KSF) since at least 2009.[19] Operations by the NDS 04 paramilitary force first garnered headlines in 2013 following airstrikes in Kunar that killed 26 civilians;[20] the first reports about NDS 01 and NDS 02 operations appeared from 2017.[21] The KPF and KSF operate out of CIA bases (Camp Chapman and “Mullah Omar’s house,” respectively). They function as part of US covert operations and often have US special forces officers deployed alongside them during kill-or-capture operations.[22] They carry out operations with US logistical support and are dependent on US intelligence and surveillance for targeting.[23] Since 2017, these paramilitary strike forces have stepped up night raids, apparently as part of a US strategy to cause maximum casualties to the Taliban and other insurgents before a US troop withdrawal.[24]

The Afghan National Defense and Security Forces, including the Afghan National Army and Afghan National Police, have their own special forces.[25] They are not part of the CIA’s covert operations.

US Forces Involved in Counterterrorism Operations in Afghanistan

CIA operations involving Afghan paramilitary strike forces fall under the authority of Title 50 of the US Code, covering covert activities.[26] The US commander in Afghanistan—currently Gen. Austin Scott Miller, a former Army Ranger—is head of both the US counterterrorism mission, Operation Freedom’s Sentinel (OFS), and the NATO mission, Resolute Support. Only OFS is a combat operation; NATO ceased combat operations at the end of 2014.[27]

All US military commands, including the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), operate under the US Commander. “White” special force operations include US forces who support the Afghan National Army in conventional operations and Crisis Response Units in Kabul. “Black” special forces operations include those of JSOC.[28]

The most clandestine “black ops” units are also drawn from JSOC and seconded to the CIA. Initially known as the Omega program and drawn primarily from SEAL Team 6, the program has since 2009 recruited experienced Army Rangers. The objectives for these units have evolved from the original counterterrorism pursuit teams of the early 2000s, focused on Al-Qaeda, to become more focused on the Taliban, especially after 2009, then on groups linked to ISIS after 2014. As of 2019, the focus is largely on the Taliban leadership, ISIS-affiliated groups, and groups claiming to be Al-Qaeda.[29]

Since 2015, Afghan paramilitary strike forces have stepped up night raids against the Taliban and other insurgents. The US military does not publish statistics on the numbers of such raids, but there has been a sharp increase in these operations since late 2017 as part of the new US South Asia policy that expanded both airstrikes and CIA operations to target the Taliban as well as Al-Qaeda.[30]In October 2017, senior US administration officials told the New York Times that the CIA was expanding its covert operations in Afghanistan by sending officers and contractors to work with Afghan forces to “hunt and kill” Taliban militants.[31] On October 12, then-CIA Director Mike Pompeo publicly announced that under the Trump administration, the CIA was adopting a more aggressive approach:

The CIA, to be successful, must be aggressive, vicious, unforgiving, relentless—you pick the word. We must every minute be focused on crushing our enemies.… President Trump gets this. Whenever we’ve discussed the challenges the agency is facing, he has given us what we need, whether it’s funding, authorities, or policy guidance—such as when the law already permits a given action, but the previous administration chose not to do it.… So with the president’s backing, we’re taking several steps to make CIA faster and more aggressive.[32]

The UN Assistance Mission in Afghanistan has raised concerns about “the lack of transparency for command, control, rules of engagement, and policy framework” guiding these forces, noting that no one “within the Afghan national security forces or civilian government administration has been willing or able to discuss incidents … or address issues of accountability.”[33]

UNAMA noted in February 2019 that a significant reason for the increase in civilian casualties caused by pro-government forces was kill-or-capture operations attributed to NDS special forces and the Khost Protection Force.[34] These forces operate as part of the covert program backed by the CIA. With regard to the Khost Protection Force, UNAMA said:

As a pro-government armed group that operates outside of the tashkil [personnel list] of the Afghan National Security Forces, there is no legal basis for the existence of the Khost Protection Force, and the continued widespread impunity for abuses its members enjoy remains of grave concern. The Afghan authorities have not taken the necessary action to hold members of this group accountable with respect to allegations of excessive use of force, intentional killings, and other abuses that severely impact the human rights and the lives of Afghans.[35]

In 2018, UNAMA documented 353 civilian casualties (284 deaths and 69 injured) from search operations, with the majority caused by NDS special forces and the Khost Protection Force, and noted that the “high number of fatalities compared to the number of injured suggests that force was employed indiscriminately.”[36] Following the alleged killing of 11 men in Zurmat district in August 2019 (described below), the former head of UNAMA’s human rights unit tweeted that the killings needed “investigating, not only the incident but the pattern.”[37]

Peace talks between the Taliban and the US government, which began in late 2018, have focused on the withdrawal of US forces, but the status and fate of these paramilitary forces remains unclear. Some US officials have pushed for retaining all intelligence forces to continue the fight against ISIS and other groups and to act as a deterrent against groups like Al-Qaeda regaining a strong presence in Afghanistan. But the continued presence of paramilitary forces implicated in serious human right abuses—in some cases possibly fueled by tribal or political loyalties—would pose a threat to communities already victimized by these forces.[38]

Airstrikes Accompanying Night Raids

In many cases, night raids have been accompanied by airstrikes that have indiscriminately and disproportionately killed Afghan civilians.[39] According to UNAMA, civilian casualties from US airstrikes have increased steadily since 2017.[40] In a departure from previous policy, sometime after 2016, the US authorized Afghan forces to call in airstrikes for support even without US forces present to identify the targets.[41]

Changes to targeting directives have meant that airstrikes are hitting more residential buildings, at a time when a decreased ground presence and a reliance on local Afghan intelligence sources have limited the amount of information about the possible presence of civilians in those buildings.[42] Such strikes carry inherently greater risks for civilians because of the difficulties in determining whether civilians are inside prior to a strike.[43]

This intensification in offensive operations has coincided with decreased US government transparency. While CIA operations and actions by CIA-backed forces have never been made public, Resolute Support, the US-led NATO mission in Afghanistan, published a monthly breakdown of air operations from the NATO mission from January 2015 through October 2017. This stopped after October 2017. In October 2018, Resolute Support resumed publishing strike data, but from November 2018, the data no longer included information about targets due to “operational concerns.”[44] The decision to remove targeting data followed a report by the Bureau of Investigative Journalism, which maintains a strike log for US operations in Afghanistan, on the increase in civilian casualties from airstrikes on residential buildings.[45]

II. Afghan Forces Responsible for Abuses

Before the drawdown of most international forces from Afghanistan in 2014, the CIA began expanding the number of Afghan paramilitary units fighting the Taliban and other insurgents. A 2013 report by the Afghanistan Analysts Network described a military operation in Kunar province carried out by a paramilitary unit known as NDS 04, led by CIA officers. NDS 04 had called in two airstrikes over a two-month period in Kunar that killed 26 civilians.[46] Reports on NDS 01 and 02 appeared in 2017. The numbers refer to the regional NDS directorates. Specific operations led by NDS strike forces may include units from other Afghan National Defense and Security Forces, including the Afghan National Army (ANA) and Afghan National Police (ANP).

While these forces are nominally under the National Directorate of Security, they operate outside the normal chain of command of the Afghan security forces and as part of CIA-backed covert operations. The forces are reliant on the US military for logistical and air support, including helicopters to transport the forces during operations—even for operations that are not directly partnered by US or allied non-Afghan special forces.

NDS 01

Operates in Afghanistan’s central region, in Kabul, Parwan, Wardak, Logar, and possibly other bordering provinces.[47]

NDS 02

Operates in Afghanistan’s eastern region, in Nangarhar and possibly other bordering provinces.

NDS 03 (Kandahar Strike Force)

One of the older counterterrorism pursuit teams established by the CIA to “pursue” Al-Qaeda suspects into Pakistan after 2001 (like the KPF, below). The KSF is based in Kandahar in the former compound of the late Taliban leader Mullah Omar, renamed “Gekho” after US forces occupied it, but still commonly referred to as “Mullah Omar’s house.” It operates in Afghanistan’s southern region, in Kandahar, Helmand, and Uruzgan. Ahmad Wali Karzai, the late brother of former president Hamid Karzai, reportedly oversaw KSF operations until his assassination in 2011.[48]

NDS 04

Operates in Nuristan, Kunar, and other bordering northeastern provinces.[49]

Khost Protection Force

The first of the CIA-supported special forces units established in the mid-2000s.[50] As with the NDS strike force units listed above, CIA officers or contractors sometimes accompany the KPF on operations. At the same time, according to UNAMA, a KPF commander “participates in the weekly security meetings in Khost province, chaired by the provincial governor, alongside Afghan national security forces, which suggests some degree of information-sharing and tacit consent by the [Afghan] government of its operations.”[51] The KPF base is Camp Chapman outside Khost city. It reportedly has battalions in Sharana, Paktika province, and Gardez, Paktia province, and is the largest of the paramilitary strike forces, with between 3,000 and 10,000 men and a network of informants.[52]

III. Assaults, Arbitrary Detentions, and Summary Executions during Night Raids

Night raids by US and Afghan forces aimed at killing or capturing insurgents largely occur in rural areas of Afghanistan that are under Taliban control or being contested by Afghan government forces. Urban-based journalists have little access to the incidents, and many do not get reported in the mainstream Afghan media, particularly in English-language outlets. Journalists based in the provinces report on some of the incidents, particularly those that spark protests from local residents.[53] An Afghan NGO staff member based in Kabul described the incidents as “severely and maybe sometimes intentionally under reported,” because Afghan media outlets are under pressure from Afghanistan’s security institutions not to publish reports critical of the security forces.[54]

The modus operandi of night raids by Afghan paramilitary forces is that helicopters arrive late at night or early morning, airlifting a strike force unit to a designated area.[55] These forces then breach the outer walls of residential compounds, clinics, offices, or other facilities, generally by using an explosive. Upon entering the buildings, they separate men and teenage boys from women, teenage girls, and younger children, who usually remain in a single room. Following questioning, some of the men may be detained and taken away by the forces for further interrogation.[56] In some cases, those detained are brought to the Parwan detention facility in Bagram, on the US military base north of Kabul. Others have been detained in facilities in different parts of Afghanistan. Cases where family members are not informed of their detained relatives’ whereabouts constitute enforced disappearances. In some other cases, the suspect is shot, execution-style.

While the targeting of a specific area or house for a night raid is supposed to be based on accurate intelligence about insurgent activity, in practice, certain activities leave local residents who are not involved in insurgent activity vulnerable to being targeted. These include providing food to Taliban insurgents, even if under duress; proximity to insurgent activities; or incidental contact with insurgent groups. Political rivalries within the community have also been a factor in targeting civilians who demonstrated no belligerent conduct or status.[57]

These problems were identified several years ago and were supposed to have been addressed in revised rules of engagement. A 2011 report on night raids observed similar abuses at a time when the Afghan administration under President Karzai sought to curtail US-led night raids: “The lack of transparency or strong accountability mechanisms have reinforced Afghan perceptions that international military use night raids to kill, harass, and intimidate civilians with impunity.”[58]

Witness to a Night Raid

An Afghan employee of a Kabul-based NGO described his experience of being in the vicinity of a night raid during the Eid holidays in June 2019:[59]

The first three nights of Eid were okay. Then on the fourth night [June 7], at about 11 p.m. we were playing cards. We heard the noise of helicopters hovering over the roof. It was a terrifying moment. My in-laws knew the situation. They said, “Turn off all the lights and stay calm.” I was in one room with some relatives and the women and kids were in another room. My wife took my computer and ID card with her because they would not check her. We were waiting to see if they were coming to the house. In the normal situation you should wait 30 minutes—either a rocket [will come] or there will be knocking at the gates. After 30 minutes, the helicopters were still hovering. After 15 minutes, we heard one rocket, then after 30 minutes, the sound of another rocket. Then we realized it was not [focused on] our house, but near our house. By then we were all in the same room—we could not sleep. I shared my email password with my relatives in case something happened to me. The helicopters continued to hover until 2 a.m. We waited for three more hours [until daylight]. At first we would not come out—we were worried they would be waiting to shoot. Even the imam did not come to the mosque [for the dawn prayer]. After that, slowly, slowly, people began to come out.

Around 7 a.m., my in-laws learned that the raid had targeted two houses [in another area of the village]. My sister-in-law was in that house—she is married to someone who lives there and they told me the story. Her family had also turned off the lights and waited—that is the way in all villages. We know they’ve shot many like this.

A rocket destroyed the wall of that house. The second rocket destroyed the gate. They said American and Afghan commandos came up through the [destroyed] wall. Speaking through a [megaphone], they told everyone to come out and carry nothing with them—put everything on the floor. Women to one room. The men to the yard. The men were sitting there and the forces were questioning them—their names, sons, and so on. They said they had a report that some Taliban had entered the house. The owner of the house [my brother’s father-in-law] told them, “Search—and if you find them, you can shoot us.”

The soldiers turned everything upside down in the house, breaking wardrobes and metal boxes. They made a big mess in all the rooms. Then they took two brothers with them—one is a teacher in a local school and the other is a laborer. They said “We will release them soon.” Then they left.

They brought the two brothers to Bagram. I shared the information with [some foreign journalists and NGO members] who contacted [US officials]. The brothers were held for two weeks and then released. They also raided another house [in the village] in the same way, by destroying a wall and taking the owner with them. He has not returned.

Summary Executions in Zurmat, Paktia

Strike force units have conducted multiple raids in Zurmat district in Paktia province since 2018, killing at least 17 civilians.

On August 11, 2019, a raid by NDS 01 in Kulalgo village began at about 10:30 p.m.[60] According to a witness whose house was targeted, the Afghan strike forces were accompanied by US forces who blew open the doors of the house and shot four men in front of the rest of the family. In another house, they fatally shot three shopkeepers and one of their guests, all of whom were home for Eid celebrations. In the third incident, they killed a religious teacher and two construction workers.[61]

The Afghanistan Analysts Network (AAN), a Kabul-based research NGO, identified the men who were killed in the second house as Rahatullah, Nasratullah, and Hekmatullah, brothers who had a shop in Ghazni city. Nasratullah was also studying at Ghazni University to become a teacher, while Hekmatullah was a high school teacher.

Relatives told AAN that the strike force had asked males to present their ID cards. Said one:

When the residents complied—there was no resistance—some were asked to come out of the rooms they were staying in. They were then separated from other family members and taken to separate rooms and later shot dead. No one saw who exactly did the shooting, but multiple family members said their relatives were shot in the eyes or the mouth.[62]

According to AAN, eight of the men belonged to one tribe, and the four cousins were part of the extended family of a well-known local tribal elder—a family “known not to be associated with the Taleban or any other armed opposition group.”[63] In fact, the family patriarch, who died some years ago, was openly critical of the Taliban and had been forced to live out the last years of his life in Kabul.[64]

AAN also noted that on the same night, local residents reported a raid on a known Taliban house elsewhere in Zurmat that proved unsuccessful, as the Talban fighters escaped. That both raids occurred on the same night in Zurmat, and that the National Directorate of Security initially claimed that the 11 killed were Taliban, suggests that the strike forces might have targeted the wrong house, or operated on faulty intelligence, possibly fueled by local rivalries.[65] The laws of war prohibit the summary execution of any individual in custody; those responsible for such acts are committing war crimes.[66]

On August 15, 2019, the Afghan government ordered an investigation into the Kulalgo killings. At time of writing, no findings had been made public.

According to the UN Assistance Mission in Afghanistan, an earlier night raid occurred in Zurmat on December 30, 2018, when the Khost Protection Force killed six civilians during a nighttime kill-or-capture operation that targeted a member of the provincial peace council and a tribal elder.[67] In the manner of other night raids, a helicopter delivered the KPF forces, who first breached the compound walls with an explosive, then shouted at those inside the house not to move or turn on the lights.[68]

One of the survivors, Ghulam Mohammad, told AAN that the strike forces forced him to come outside, where they questioned him about the Taliban. When the forces left and he returned to the house, Ghulam Mohammad found they had killed his son, Mohammad Karim, a student in his 20s; his brothers Sayid Hassan, mid-40s, and Naim Faruqi, 60; his nephews Attiqullah and Fath al-Rahman, students in their 20s; and Mohammad Omar, a neighbor in his 40s. Naim had been shot in the eye, and Karim in the mouth.[69]

The family decided to take the bodies to the governor in Gardez city to protest the killings, where they were joined by 100 residents demanding justice.[70] However, no investigation was announced.

Summary Execution in Nerkh, Wardak

Nerkh district in Wardak province has been a contested area for at least a decade, with a history of special operations abuses against local civilians.[71] As of mid-2019, the Taliban dominated much of the district. Clashes between Afghan security forces and the Taliban have been frequent.

M., an ustad (teacher) and elder from Pair Dad village in Nerkh, told Human Rights Watch that NDS 01 activity had increased in recent months:

01 activity is very high. Every week there is something. They just appear, and civilians are the most affected. [Recently] there have been operations in eight villages. They blow up the houses. The Taliban come every night demanding food—some are from these villages. We have to feed them. We are caught in between. Small people, simple people—they cannot talk to VIPs [about this]. So every day we are coming to the district governor about the civilians, but he says it’s out of his hands. Many people are affected. They cannot always report these things, cannot get compensation for their houses that have been destroyed.[72]

On October 8, 2018, a strike force conducted a large-scale operation with US air support to search for Taliban fighters in the area.[73] D.D., a 70-year-old farmer, had four daughters in Nerkh, one son working in Kabul, and two sons who had returned in mid-2018 from Iran, where they had worked as laborers for several years. One of those sons was shot dead in the raid and another was taken into custody. D.D. described what happened:

At around midnight on the 15th of Mezan [October 8], the NDS 01 destroyed the gate to our compound with an explosive device. They killed one of my sons at the back of our home and took the other with them. My sons had returned home after three years from Iran doing hard labor jobs over there. We are not terrorists. The forces accused us, “Why are you feeding the Taliban?” But the Taliban come asking for food. If you don’t feed them, then they harass you.[74]

Summary Execution, Enforced Disappearances in Panjwai, Kandahar

Around March 21, 2019, a strike force unit arrived in Panjwai at night and ordered all the men in the village to come outside, where they tied their hands and hooded them. After questioning them, they took two men, only one of whom has returned. Based on their uniforms, the fact that Gekho base is the only base in the vicinity reachable by road, and the fact that they had carried out previous raids in the district, witnesses identified the unit as belonging to the NDS 03, or Kandahar Strike Force, based at Gekho, west of Kandahar city.[75]

A few weeks later, on April 10, a strike force unit carried out a raid in Talokan village and neighboring villages in Panjwai. They killed Mohammad Gul, 60, who had been the principal of the primary school since 2011.[76] M.M., a relative, said that Mohammad Gul had been at home with his wife and daughters at the time of the raid. Based on their uniforms and the fact they traveled by road from east of Panjwai, M.M. believed the forces had come from the US base in Gekho, which is also known as “Mullah Omar’s house.” M.M. said:

They came from “Mullah Omar’s house”—all the dangerous operations come from there. At 11 p.m., the soldiers came to the house. They locked the women in one room, then they went to Mohammad Gul’s room, where he was alone, and shot him three times. Then they dragged the body out to the courtyard. The forces were speaking Pashto.[77]

The forces also detained five men—one from Talokan and four from Sarkilla village—and took them to an undisclosed location, effectively forcibly disappearing them.[78] According to M.M.:

Since this latest incident, we decided to protest. This is the second time something has happened here. We should just leave. Please tell this story. Why are we always being killed by them? What’s our mistake? Also, they got [Mohammad Gul’s] phones—if they find anything in the phones, we will accept [that he did something wrong]. We want our rights. He was very respected, and now the school is closed. He was an employee of the government. Why do they kill their own people?[79]

Summary Executions in Rodat, Nangarhar

On October 23, 2018, an NDS strike force unit carried out a raid in the Rodat district of Nangarhar, after first calling in an airstrike. G.G., a resident of Shahidanu Mena, Rodat, said that it was the NDS 02 unit.[80] He said they came at midnight and began shooting almost immediately, killing five members of one family and injuring two others:

First they blew up the door. When a father of the family came out of the house, they shot him first, then the sons came out to check on him and they killed them, then another brother came, and then the women stopped another brother from coming out. The women said, “Please don’t kill us,” and then they shot an older woman. A younger girl ran to the brother and they shot her, injuring her, then killed the last brother. They carried out raids for two more nights.[81]

The Bureau of Investigative Journalism investigated the raid and documented 13 civilian deaths in the incident, including the guard at the government school and the village pharmacist. Jamal Khan, a relative of the school guard, told the Bureau of Investigative Journalism that the raid started with an airstrike. “First, they attacked us with bombs,” he said. “Then they entered the living room and started to shoot around. They didn’t care about who they were killing. They killed my uncle and his 9-year-old son. His wife and his other child were injured.”[82]

The government claimed that all those killed were ISIS fighters, but G.G. said that district officials had visited him to look into the incident and told him that what happened “was wrong.” He said NDS paid compensation to the affected families.[83]

Summary Executions in Maiwand, Kandahar

On the evening of January 31, 2018, an Afghan paramilitary force unit backed by US airstrikes began an offensive against Taliban insurgents in the Band-e Timor area of Maiwand district and the Reg area of Panjwai district, long-time Taliban strongholds located on a strategic transportation route.[84] A witness in Band-e Timor told Human Rights Watch that the Afghan forces opened fire on men as they attempted to flee, killing Taliban fighters and at least 20 civilians.[85]

Another witness told Human Rights Watch: “When the airplanes came, we fled. But as the people were running away, the forces were shooting them.”[86] He said security force personnel dragged some men from their homes and shot them.[87] The NDS claimed that the air and ground operation killed 50 militants, and that 32 suspects had been detained.[88]

A Kandahar-based civil society activist who had contacted local officials told Human Rights Watch that the forces included NDS 03, as well as counterinsurgency forces of the Afghan National Police under Lt. Col. Sultan Mohammad.[89] The Kandahar police have been accused of systematic human rights violations, including torture, enforced disappearances, and extrajudicial executions.[90]

Summary Executions in Dehbala, Nangarhar

Several border districts of southern Nangarhar province, particularly Dehbala, Achin, and Khogyani, have seen intense fighting since 2016. Afghan government forces operating with US air support have stepped up military operations in areas that have been controlled or heavily influenced by the Islamic State of Khorasan Province (ISKP), an insurgent group that has affiliated itself with ISIS.[91] Since January 2017, US forces have carried out numerous air operations in eastern Nangarhar province, in some cases accompanying raids by NDS 02 strike forces.[92]

D.D., 65, a resident of Dehbala district, described a deadly night raid in August 2017 that included forces who spoke English, which he identified as NDS 02:

At around 12:20 a.m., helicopters arrived in the area, bringing ground forces. My cousin’s house is located at a distance of about 100 meters from my house [in the same compound]. The forces, Americans and Afghans, blew up the gate of my cousin’s house. According to relatives in the house, my cousin went to his mother’s room and shouted through the window to my brother [who lived beside them] not to go out because the helicopters were hovering above and they might target him. Afterward, he went to his children’s room to check on them, but the forces shot him dead through the window of that room.

After that, the forces made their way to our house and told all of the family to surrender. Another cousin left the house and went into the yard, saying he would surrender. He told the forces there was nothing going on and they could come in, but the forces opened fired and shot him in the yard.[93]

D.D. said that when the forces entered the compound, they shot one of his brothers and a nephew, then detained another brother of his, whom they took when they left:

My brother was lying on the ground and bleeding, and when my other brother came to see him, an Afghan solider took him away and put a stamp on his back. They have some type of stamp. If they put the stamp on anyone, they won’t kill him, but just arrest him. It is their secret.[94]

D.D. said the village held a protest, and he reported the incident to the district governor:

With the help of the villagers, we took all the dead bodies to the road, and villagers staged a protest on the road asking the government to bring the perpetrators to justice. Three days after the incident, I told the governor that if anyone put forward any evidence about [my family having] links with Daesh [ISIS] or the Taliban, they could hang [the detained brother].

The whole village was besieged. I understand that Americans do not know where my house was, and I think they were brought by some Afghans there. They have to ask the Afghans who gave them incorrect reports about the presence of the Taliban or Daesh. Why would they shoot everyone? All of them were just poor guys.[95]

It is unclear whether US or Afghan authorities carried out an investigation. No findings have been made public.

IV. Kill-or-Capture Operations Involving Airstrikes

BACK TO TOP

Air operations may precede or follow a night raid. In a number of incidents Human Rights Watch investigated, airstrikes or helicopter-fired munitions killed and injured civilians before or after night raids. The dramatic increase in civilian casualties from US air operations in Afghanistan may reflect a result of changes to tactical directives that eliminated former measures that had reduced civilian harm.

In 2008, civilian harm from US airstrikes in Afghanistan was at what was then an all-time high (it was surpassed in 2018-2019). After UNAMA began publishing reports detailing civilian harm from airstrikes, and Human Rights Watch published its report on civilian casualties, Troops in Contact, NATO created a civilian casualties tracking unit within its mission designed to have direct input to lessons learned that could feed into air operations. The changes that were implemented—including restrictions on targeting, not using explosive weapons with wide impact in populated areas unless troops were under attack, and the use of precise, low-collateral weapons where appropriate—had a measurable impact in terms of reduced civilian casualties.[96]

However, after 2014, NATO’s noncombat Resolute Support mission significantly reduced its civilian casualty tracking team. The Afghan government took over basic tracking of casualties caused by its forces at the Presidential Information Coordination Center, known as the Tawhid Center, which collects information but does not conduct independent investigations.

Since then, the US military has rescinded directives restricting targeting, and has authorized ground troops to approve targets and Afghan special forces to call in airstrikes, even in situations where there is limited information about civilian presence in the identified target area.[97]

Deadly Airstrike during Kill-or-Capture Operation in Hesarak

On March 10, 2019, an Afghan paramilitary strike force carried out a search in Nasir Khil, a village about four kilometers north of the district center of Hesarak, in Nangarhar province. According to the New York Times and witnesses who spoke with Human Rights Watch, the unit was NDS 02. The strike force arrived in the early morning and called in air support after coming under fire. The strikes killed at least 13 civilian members of two families, including several children.[98] One resident told Human Rights Watch:

The airstrikes hit two houses. A soldier of the Afghan National Army, his wife, and four children were in one of the houses. All were killed. The village doctor, his wife, and their five daughters were in the other house that was hit, and all of them died.[99]

According to a New York Times report, a Resolute Support spokesperson said that the mission was looking into the situation:

In self-defense, precision airstrikes were used to support the troops on the ground.… We are fighting in a complex environment against those who intentionally kill and hide behind civilians. We hold ourselves to the highest standards of accuracy and accountability, and we are looking into this.[100]

The governor of Nangarhar, Shahmahmood Miakhel, claimed that “an important Taliban commander” had been killed in the strikes, but witnesses said that the airstrikes did not hit a house known to belong to a Taliban commander, instead hitting civilian houses.[101] The father of the killed soldier asked Human Rights Watch, “Why didn’t they know which house?”[102]

Deadly Airstrike following Raid in Wardak

On the night of September 22, 2018, US and NDS 01 forces carried out a raid in the village of Mullah Hafiz, Jaghatu district, in Wardak province. The next morning, US forces carried out an airstrike that killed 12 civilians, all of whom were women and children from the same family.[103] The children ranged in age from 4 to 16 years old.[104]

Masih Ur-Rahman Mubarez, whose entire family was killed, told Human Rights Watch that a Taliban prison was located in the area. He said that US forces and Afghan strike forces had been searching for the prison, checking all the houses in the area. He said that in the middle of the night, his wife, Amina, called him to say there was a raid in the village.[105] He told her to keep the phone on so he could reach her.[106]

Mubarez later learned that after he spoke with Amina, fighting had broken out in the village between the Taliban and US and Afghan forces. Sometime between 9 and 10 a.m. the next morning, US forces carried out several airstrikes, one of which destroyed his family’s house and killed everyone inside, including his wife and seven children. He said: “I tried to call my family that morning. I could not reach them. Then a neighbor called and told me my house had been hit.… I have lost everyone—I am alone now.”[107]

Those killed were Masih Ur-Rahman Mubarez’s wife, Amina, 32; daughters Anisa, 14, Safia, 12, Samina, 7, and Fahima, 5; sons Mohammad Wiqad, 10, Mohammad Ilyas, 8, and Fayaz, 4; and nieces Rahmania, 16, Nafisa, 14, Zarifa, 12, and Amina, 10. Mubarez said no one had come from the government to investigate the incident. Because of fighting in the area, Mubarez said that villagers could not retrieve the bodies from under the rubble of the house for two days.[108]

V. Special Forces Raids on Medical Facilities

Human Rights Watch documented an increase in Afghan special forces raids on medical facilities between May 2018 and July 2019. The forces that carried these out were NDS 01, NDS 02, the Kandahar Strike Force (NDS 03), and other special forces units, all of which are supported, and sometimes accompanied, by US forces. During these kill-or-capture operations, the forces involved assaulted and, in some cases, killed medical staff; assaulted or killed accompanying civilian or noncombatant caregivers; and caused damage to the facilities.

The laws of war, applicable to the armed conflict in Afghanistan, protects patients, including wounded soldiers, and all medical personnel from attack. Hospitals and other medical facilities are also protected from attack unless they are being used outside their humanitarian function to commit acts harmful to the enemy, such as to fire artillery or store munitions. Commanders and combatants who willfully violate these protections are responsible for war crimes.

Clinic Disrupted in Andar, Ghazni

Ghazni province has seen significant fighting since August 2018 when the Taliban took control of the city for 10 days before US airstrikes and special forces operations forced them out. The Taliban have maintained a significant presence in many districts of Ghazni province, including Andar, which lies south of Ghazni city.[109] From April 15 to May 7, 2019, US forces carried out 55 airstrikes in Ghazni province, many of them in Andar district, as well as many night raids.[110]

Several raids took place in Andar on May 14, including one in which a strike force unit accompanied by US forces searched an NGO-run clinic.[111] The forces questioned staff members about the identities of patients who had sought treatment at the clinic, specifically a Taliban commander in the area. According to an unpublished report, the forces took the staff members’ phones and searched the contents. They questioned the staff about any explosives in the clinic, then took them to a nearby building, forcing the staff to walk ahead of them in the dark, with the forces taking cover behind them. When the Afghan and US forces left at 3:30 a.m., they took the staff members’ phones with them, as well as the clinic’s patient logbook.[112]

While medical facilities can be searched to ensure they are genuinely providing medical services, using the staff as a civilian shield against insurgent attack, disrupting operations by questioning staff, and stealing medical equipment are all unlawful.

Clinic Raided, Equipment Destroyed in Uruzgan

On January 14, 2019, an NDS 03 unit carried out an operation during which they deliberately caused damage to the NGO-run Surmurghab Adda clinic, which provides services to nearby villages.[113]

Before the raid there had been fighting nearby, across a river from the clinic. Taliban fighters had opened fire, and a special forces helicopter had fired on the fighters, killing them.[114] The strike force raid on the clinic began at about 12:30 a.m. A member of the clinic staff said:

Helicopters landed on the main road close to the clinic. [Due to these raids] the hospital directors leave the clinic at night and so do any Taliban, so there were no doctors in the clinic and no patients [only night staff]. The special forces came in and accused the staff of treating Taliban fighters. They broke the tables and equipment. They set fire to two generators and an ambulance. The forces were in uniform, but not normal ANA [Afghan National Army] uniforms.[115]

Raid Killing Medical Staff, Other Civilians in Wardak

On the night of July 8, 2019, a special forces unit identified by witnesses as NDS 01 raided an NGO medical clinic in Day Mirdad, Wardak province. A member of the local health council told Human Rights Watch that at about 9 p.m. on July 8, he heard helicopters and knew a raid was underway. At 5 a.m., he and others from the health council went to the clinic and found the guard’s room shattered by a rocket that had left a crater.[116]

A clinic staff member said that the strike force had tied the hands of all the staff and visiting family caregivers and taken them to a room, where they questioned them about the whereabouts of the Taliban. Then they took four men with them, including the clinic’s director, Dr. Wahidullah, and told the remaining staff to stay in the room.[117]

After the Afghan forces left, villagers discovered the bodies of three of the men who had been taken. The villagers were unable to locate Dr. Wahidullah, whom they believe the forces may have detained. The body of a family caregiver was also found on the premises.[118]

On July 11, the Swedish Committee for Afghanistan, a humanitarian organization that runs the clinic, described the incident as a “shocking violation” of international humanitarian law, and said that “such outrageous use of force against civilians and health facilities constitutes a serious violation of applicable international humanitarian law and it affects provision of health services delivery to the people in the local community.”[119]

A media report cited Haji Waheed Akbarzai, a member of the Wardak provincial assembly, saying that the clinic was located in an area that is under Taliban control. “The Afghan forces raided the hospital because they received information that Taliban [members] were being treated and were hiding there,” he said.[120]

Afghan forces had previously targeted the Day Mirdad clinic. On February 17, 2016, Afghan forces accompanied by international forces raided the facility, dragging away two patients and a visiting 11-year-old and shooting dead all three outside the hospital premises.[121]

Clinic Raided, Enforced Disappearance in Kajaki, Helmand

On the night of July 9, 2019, a special forces unit carried out a raid on an NGO clinic in the Zamindawar area of Kajaki district, Helmand. Kajaki has been under Taliban control for several years. The clinic provided basic health services and first aid.

The raid began at about 2:30 a.m. when helicopters arrived, dropping the unit. The staff described the unit as commandos who spoke in a Kandahari accent.[122] The modus operandi of arriving by helicopters at night is similar to that of the NDS 03 based at Gekho in Kandahar.

The forces tied the hands of the five clinic staff members and questioned them as to the location of the Taliban, before departing about an hour later.[123] A farmer who lived nearby said that he went to the clinic in the morning and the staff told him the soldiers had beaten them; one had a black eye and others had bruises. They told him the strike force had taken the doctor who was in charge of the clinic to an undisclosed location. According to the clinic staff, he has not been released, and his whereabouts remain unknown.[124]

VI. International Humanitarian Law

Applicability of the Laws of War

The armed conflict in Afghanistan is considered to be a non-international conflict under international humanitarian law, or the laws of war. Even though many countries have been involved in the armed conflict in Afghanistan, the fighting does not involve one state engaged in hostilities with another state, so it is considered a non-international armed conflict. As a practical matter, the laws of war are largely the same for international and non-international armed conflicts.

Afghanistan’s armed conflict is governed by law set out in treaties and in the rules of customary international law.[125] The most important treaty law is Common Article 3 to the Geneva Conventions of 1949, which sets forth minimum standards for all parties to non-international conflicts.[126] Afghanistan is also party to Protocol II to the Geneva Conventions, which provides further protections for combatants and civilians during non-international armed conflicts.[127]

All parties to Afghanistan’s armed conflict—including non-state armed groups—are responsible for complying with the requirements of international humanitarian law. This obligation does not depend on reciprocity; parties to a conflict must respect the requirements whether or not the opposing side abides by them.[128]

Fundamental Protections

The laws of war provide protections to civilians and other noncombatants from the hazards of armed conflict. It addresses the conduct of hostilities—the means and methods of warfare—by all sides. Foremost are the principles of “civilian immunity” and “distinction”—the requirements that civilians may never be the deliberate target of attacks and that parties to a conflict must distinguish at all times between combatants and civilians, and between military objectives and civilian objects.[129] Parties to the conflict are required to take all feasible precautions to minimize harm to civilians and civilian objects, and to not carry out attacks that fail to discriminate between combatants and civilians, or would cause disproportionate harm to the civilian population.[130]

Common Article 3 provides a number of fundamental protections for civilians and those who are no longer taking part in hostilities, such as captured combatants and those who have surrendered or are unable to fight because of wounds or illness. It prohibits violence against them—particularly murder, cruel treatment, and torture—as well as outrages against their personal dignity and degrading or humiliating treatment.[131]

Treatment of Detainees

Even during armed conflicts, international human rights law remains in effect. Afghanistan and the other countries involved in the fighting are all party to a number of human rights treaties, including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment.[132] These treaties outline guarantees for fundamental rights, many of which correspond to the rights to which combatants and civilians are entitled under international humanitarian law (for example, the right to a fair trial and the prohibition on torture and inhuman and degrading treatment).

International law prohibits enforced disappearances, which are defined as the arrest or detention of anyone by government forces or their agents followed by a refusal to acknowledge the detention or whereabouts of the person.[133]

Under international human rights law, detainees are entitled to judicial review of the legality of their detention, and all the rights to a fair trial, including the right to be tried and convicted for a criminal offense only by a court of law. Unacknowledged detention is prohibited at all times.[134]

Distinction and Precautions in Attack

The laws of war limit attacks to “military objectives.” Military objectives are personnel and objects that are making an effective contribution to military action and whose destruction, capture, or neutralization offers a definite military advantage.[135] This would include enemy fighters, weapons and ammunition, and objects being used for military purposes. While humanitarian law recognizes that some civilian casualties are inevitable during armed conflict, it imposes a duty on parties to the conflict at all times to distinguish between combatants and civilians, and to target only combatants and other military objectives.

Combatants include members of a country’s armed forces and commanders and fighters in non-state armed groups.[136] They are subject to attack at all times during hostilities unless they are captured or incapacitated. Civilians lose their immunity from attack when and only for such time as they are “directly participating in hostilities.”[137] The International Committee of the Red Cross says that the laws of war distinguish members of the organized fighting forces of a non-state party, who may be targeted when there is fighting, from those who assume exclusively political, administrative, or other non-combat functions, who may not be targeted even when there is fighting. An individual recruited, trained, and equipped by a non-state armed group is considered integrated into that group even before carrying out a hostile act at a time of fighting.[138]

The laws of war also protect “civilian objects,” which are defined as anything not considered a military objective. Direct attacks against civilian objects—such as homes, apartments and civilian businesses, places of worship, medical clinics and hospitals, and schools—are prohibited unless they are being used for military purposes and thus become military objectives.[139] This would be the case if military forces are deployed in what are normally civilian objects. Where there is doubt about the nature of an object, the attacking force must presume it to be civilian.[140]

Direct attacks on civilians and civilian objects, as noted above, are prohibited.[141] The laws of war also prohibit indiscriminate attacks, which strike military objectives and civilians or civilian objects without distinction. Examples are attacks that are not directed at a specific military objective or that use weapons that cannot be directed at a specific military objective.[142]

Military commanders must choose a means of attack that can be directed at military targets and will minimize incidental harm to civilians. If the weapons used are so inaccurate that they cannot be directed at military targets without imposing a substantial risk of civilian harm, then they should not be deployed.

Attacks that violate the principle of proportionality are also prohibited. An attack is disproportionate if it may be expected to cause incidental loss of civilian life or damage to civilian objects that would be excessive in relation to the concrete and direct military advantage anticipated from the attack.[143]

The laws of war do not prohibit fighting in urban areas, although the presence of many civilians places greater obligations on parties to the conflict to take steps to minimize harm to civilians. Parties to a conflict are required to take constant care during military operations to spare the civilian population and “take all feasible precautions” to avoid or minimize the incidental loss of civilian life and damage to civilian objects.[144] These precautions include doing everything feasible to verify that the objects of attack are military objectives and not civilians or civilian objects, and giving “effective advance warning” of attacks when circumstances permit.[145]

Forces must take all feasible precautions to protect civilians under their control from the effects of attacks.[146] They should remove civilians from the vicinity of military operations and avoid locating military objectives near densely populated areas.[147] They are prohibited from deliberately using civilians to shield military objectives or operations from attack.[148]

The attacking party is not relieved of its obligation to take into account the risk to civilians simply because it considers the defending party responsible for locating legitimate military targets within or near populated areas. The use of explosive weapons with wide-area effects (weapons with a wide blast radius or indirect-fire weapons without adequate spotting) against military objectives in populated areas heightens concerns of unlawful indiscriminate and disproportionate attacks.[149] All parties to armed conflict should thus avoid the use of explosive weapons with a wide impact area in populated areas.[150]

Protections for Medical Facilities and Personnel

Medical units are civilian objects that have special protections under the laws of war. They include hospitals, clinics, medical centers and similar facilities, whether military or civilian. While other presumptively civilian structures become military objectives if they are being used for a military purpose, hospitals lose their protection from attack only if they are being used, outside their humanitarian function, to commit “acts harmful to the enemy.”[151]

Several types of acts do not constitute “acts harmful to the enemy,” such as the presence of armed guards or when small arms from the wounded are found in the hospital. Even if military forces misuse a hospital to store weapons or shelter able-bodied combatants, the attacking force must issue a warning to cease this misuse, setting a reasonable time limit for it to end, and attacking only after such a warning has gone unheeded.[152]

Under the laws of war, doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel must be permitted to provide care and attention to the wounded and sick without adverse distinction. They may not be punished for performing their medical duties.[153]

Armed personnel may enter medical facilities “for legitimate purposes such as searching for alleged criminals; interrogating and arresting suspects; searching for and arresting combatants or fighters posing an imperative threat to their security; or verifying that a medical unit is not used for military purposes.” At the same time, the military personnel may not disrupt the normal functioning of the medical facility, interfering with or denying medical treatment.[154]

Accountability for Alleged War Crimes

Serious violations of international humanitarian law committed with criminal intent—that is, deliberately or recklessly—are war crimes. War crimes, listed in the “grave breaches” provisions of the Geneva Conventions and as customary law in the International Criminal Court statute and other sources, include a wide array of offenses for which individuals may be held criminally liable—deliberate, indiscriminate, and disproportionate attacks harming civilians; hostage taking; using human shields; and imposing collective punishment, among others.[155] Individuals also may be held criminally liable for attempting to commit a war crime, as well as assisting in, facilitating, aiding, or abetting a war crime.

Responsibility also may fall on people planning or instigating a war crime.[156] Commanders and civilian leaders may be prosecuted for war crimes as a matter of command responsibility when they knew or should have known about the commission of war crimes and took insufficient measures to prevent them or punish those responsible.[157]

Ensuring justice for serious violations is, in the first instance, the responsibility of the country whose nationals are implicated in the violations. Governments have an obligation to investigate serious violations that implicate their officials or other people under their jurisdiction. The government must ensure that military or domestic courts or other institutions impartially investigate whether serious violations occurred, identifying and prosecuting the individuals responsible for those violations in accordance with international fair trial standards, and imposing punishments on individuals found guilty that are commensurate with their deeds.[158]

While non-state armed groups do not have the same legal obligation to prosecute violators of the laws of war within their ranks, they are nonetheless responsible for ensuring compliance with the laws of war and have a responsibility when they do conduct trials to do so in accordance with international fair trial standards.[159]

What ISIS Really Wants (The Atlantic)

The Islamic State is no mere collection of psychopaths. It is a religious group with carefully considered beliefs, among them that it is a key agent of the coming apocalypse. Here’s what that means for its strategy—and for how to stop it.

Where did it come from, and what are its intentions? The simplicity of these questions can be deceiving, and few Western leaders seem to know the answers. In December, The New York Times published confidential comments by Major General Michael K. Nagata, the Special Operations commander for the United States in the Middle East, admitting that he had hardly begun figuring out the Islamic State’s appeal. “We have not defeated the idea,” he said. “We do not even understand the idea.” In the past year, President Obama has referred to the Islamic State, variously, as “not Islamic” and as al-Qaeda’s “jayvee team,” statements that reflected confusion about the group, and may have contributed to significant strategic errors.

The group seized Mosul, Iraq, last June, and already rules an area larger than the United Kingdom. Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi has been its leader since May 2010, but until last summer, his most recent known appearance on film was a grainy mug shot from a stay in U.S. captivity at Camp Bucca during the occupation of Iraq. Then, on July 5 of last year, he stepped into the pulpit of the Great Mosque of al-Nuri in Mosul, to deliver a Ramadan sermon as the first caliph in generations—upgrading his resolution from grainy to high-definition, and his position from hunted guerrilla to commander of all Muslims. The inflow of jihadists that followed, from around the world, was unprecedented in its pace and volume, and is continuing.

Our ignorance of the Islamic State is in some ways understandable: It is a hermit kingdom; few have gone there and returned. Baghdadi has spoken on camera only once. But his address, and the Islamic State’s countless other propaganda videos and encyclicals, are online, and the caliphate’s supporters have toiled mightily to make their project knowable. We can gather that their state rejects peace as a matter of principle; that it hungers for genocide; that its religious views make it constitutionally incapable of certain types of change, even if that change might ensure its survival; and that it considers itself a harbinger of—and headline player in—the imminent end of the world.

The Islamic State, also known as the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (isis), follows a distinctive variety of Islam whose beliefs about the path to the Day of Judgment matter to its strategy, and can help the West know its enemy and predict its behavior. Its rise to power is less like the triumph of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt (a group whose leaders the Islamic State considers apostates) than like the realization of a dystopian alternate reality in which David Koresh or Jim Jones survived to wield absolute power over not just a few hundred people, but some 8 million.

We have misunderstood the nature of the Islamic State in at least two ways. First, we tend to see jihadism as monolithic, and to apply the logic of al-Qaeda to an organization that has decisively eclipsed it. The Islamic State supporters I spoke with still refer to Osama bin Laden as “Sheikh Osama,” a title of honor. But jihadism has evolved since al-Qaeda’s heyday, from about 1998 to 2003, and many jihadists disdain the group’s priorities and current leadership.

Bin Laden viewed his terrorism as a prologue to a caliphate he did not expect to see in his lifetime. His organization was flexible, operating as a geographically diffuse network of autonomous cells. The Islamic State, by contrast, requires territory to remain legitimate, and a top-down structure to rule it. (Its bureaucracy is divided into civil and military arms, and its territory into provinces.)

We are misled in a second way, by a well-intentioned but dishonest campaign to deny the Islamic State’s medieval religious nature. Peter Bergen, who produced the first interview with bin Laden in 1997, titled his first book Holy War, Inc. in part to acknowledge bin Laden as a creature of the modern secular world. Bin Laden corporatized terror and franchised it out. He requested specific political concessions, such as the withdrawal of U.S. forces from Saudi Arabia. His foot soldiers navigated the modern world confidently. On Mohamed Atta’s last full day of life, he shopped at Walmart and ate dinner at Pizza Hut.

There is a temptation to rehearse this observation—that jihadists are modern secular people, with modern political concerns, wearing medieval religious disguise—and make it fit the Islamic State. In fact, much of what the group does looks nonsensical except in light of a sincere, carefully considered commitment to returning civilization to a seventh-century legal environment, and ultimately to bringing about the apocalypse.

The most-articulate spokesmen for that position are the Islamic State’s officials and supporters themselves. They refer derisively to “moderns.” In conversation, they insist that they will not—cannot—waver from governing precepts that were embedded in Islam by the Prophet Muhammad and his earliest followers. They often speak in codes and allusions that sound odd or old-fashioned to non-Muslims, but refer to specific traditions and texts of early Islam.

To take one example: In September, Sheikh Abu Muhammad al-Adnani, the Islamic State’s chief spokesman, called on Muslims in Western countries such as France and Canada to find an infidel and “smash his head with a rock,” poison him, run him over with a car, or “destroy his crops.” To Western ears, the biblical-sounding punishments—the stoning and crop destruction—juxtaposed strangely with his more modern-sounding call to vehicular homicide. (As if to show that he could terrorize by imagery alone, Adnani also referred to Secretary of State John Kerry as an “uncircumcised geezer.”)

But Adnani was not merely talking trash. His speech was laced with theological and legal discussion, and his exhortation to attack crops directly echoed orders from Muhammad to leave well water and crops alone—unless the armies of Islam were in a defensive position, in which case Muslims in the lands of kuffar, or infidels, should be unmerciful, and poison away.

The reality is that the Islamic State is Islamic. Very Islamic. Yes, it has attracted psychopaths and adventure seekers, drawn largely from the disaffected populations of the Middle East and Europe. But the religion preached by its most ardent followers derives from coherent and even learned interpretations of Islam.

Virtually every major decision and law promulgated by the Islamic State adheres to what it calls, in its press and pronouncements, and on its billboards, license plates, stationery, and coins, “the Prophetic methodology,” which means following the prophecy and example of Muhammad, in punctilious detail. Muslims can reject the Islamic State; nearly all do. But pretending that it isn’t actually a religious, millenarian group, with theology that must be understood to be combatted, has already led the United States to underestimate it and back foolish schemes to counter it. We’ll need to get acquainted with the Islamic State’s intellectual genealogy if we are to react in a way that will not strengthen it, but instead help it self-immolate in its own excessive zeal.

Control of territory is an essential precondition for the Islamic State’s authority in the eyes of its supporters. This map, adapted from the work of the Institute for the Study of War, shows the territory under the caliphate’s control as of January 15, along with areas it has attacked. Where it holds power, the state collects taxes, regulates prices, operates courts, and administers services ranging from health care and education to telecommunications.

I.                     Devotion

In November, the Islamic State released an infomercial-like video tracing its origins to bin Laden. It acknowledged Abu Musa’b al Zarqawi, the brutal head of al‑Qaeda in Iraq from roughly 2003 until his killing in 2006, as a more immediate progenitor, followed sequentially by two other guerrilla leaders before Baghdadi, the caliph. Notably unmentioned: bin Laden’s successor, Ayman al Zawahiri, the owlish Egyptian eye surgeon who currently heads al‑Qaeda. Zawahiri has not pledged allegiance to Baghdadi, and he is increasingly hated by his fellow jihadists. His isolation is not helped by his lack of charisma; in videos he comes across as squinty and annoyed. But the split between al-Qaeda and the Islamic State has been long in the making, and begins to explain, at least in part, the outsize bloodlust of the latter.

Zawahiri’s companion in isolation is a Jordanian cleric named Abu Muhammad al Maqdisi, 55, who has a fair claim to being al-Qaeda’s intellectual architect and the most important jihadist unknown to the average American newspaper reader. On most matters of doctrine, Maqdisi and the Islamic State agree. Both are closely identified with the jihadist wing of a branch of Sunnism called Salafism, after the Arabic al salaf al salih, the “pious forefathers.” These forefathers are the Prophet himself and his earliest adherents, whom Salafis honor and emulate as the models for all behavior, including warfare, couture, family life, even dentistry.

Maqdisi taught Zarqawi, who went to war in Iraq with the older man’s advice in mind. In time, though, Zarqawi surpassed his mentor in fanaticism, and eventually earned his rebuke. At issue was Zarqawi’s penchant for bloody spectacle—and, as a matter of doctrine, his hatred of other Muslims, to the point of excommunicating and killing them. In Islam, the practice of takfir, or excommunication, is theologically perilous. “If a man says to his brother, ‘You are an infidel,’ ” the Prophet said, “then one of them is right.” If the accuser is wrong, he himself has committed apostasy by making a false accusation. The punishment for apostasy is death. And yet Zarqawi heedlessly expanded the range of behavior that could make Muslims infidels.

Maqdisi wrote to his former pupil that he needed to exercise caution and “not issue sweeping proclamations of takfir” or “proclaim people to be apostates because of their sins.” The distinction between apostate and sinner may appear subtle, but it is a key point of contention between al-Qaeda and the Islamic State.

Denying the holiness of the Koran or the prophecies of Muhammad is straightforward apostasy. But Zarqawi and the state he spawned take the position that many other acts can remove a Muslim from Islam. These include, in certain cases, selling alcohol or drugs, wearing Western clothes or shaving one’s beard, voting in an election—even for a Muslim candidate—and being lax about calling other people apostates. Being a Shiite, as most Iraqi Arabs are, meets the standard as well, because the Islamic State regards Shiism as innovation, and to innovate on the Koran is to deny its initial perfection. (The Islamic State claims that common Shiite practices, such as worship at the graves of imams and public self-flagellation, have no basis in the Koran or in the example of the Prophet.) That means roughly 200 million Shia are marked for death. So too are the heads of state of every Muslim country, who have elevated man-made law above Sharia by running for office or enforcing laws not made by God.

Following takfiri doctrine, the Islamic State is committed to purifying the world by killing vast numbers of people. The lack of objective reporting from its territory makes the true extent of the slaughter unknowable, but social-media posts from the region suggest that individual executions happen more or less continually, and mass executions every few weeks. Muslim “apostates” are the most common victims. Exempted from automatic execution, it appears, are Christians who do not resist their new government. Baghdadi permits them to live, as long as they pay a special tax, known as the jizya, and acknowledge their subjugation. The Koranic authority for this practice is not in dispute.

Centuries have passed since the wars of religion ceased in Europe, and since men stopped dying in large numbers because of arcane theological disputes. Hence, perhaps, the incredulity and denial with which Westerners have greeted news of the theology and practices of the Islamic State. Many refuse to believe that this group is as devout as it claims to be, or as backward-looking or apocalyptic as its actions and statements suggest.

Their skepticism is comprehensible. In the past, Westerners who accused Muslims of blindly following ancient scriptures came to deserved grief from academics—notably the late Edward Said—who pointed out that calling Muslims “ancient” was usually just another way to denigrate them. Look instead, these scholars urged, to the conditions in which these ideologies arose—the bad governance, the shifting social mores, the humiliation of living in lands valued only for their oil.

Without acknowledgment of these factors, no explanation of the rise of the Islamic State could be complete. But focusing on them to the exclusion of ideology reflects another kind of Western bias: that if religious ideology doesn’t matter much in Washington or Berlin, surely it must be equally irrelevant in Raqqa or Mosul. When a masked executioner says Allahu akbar while beheading an apostate, sometimes he’s doing so for religious reasons.

Many mainstream Muslim organizations have gone so far as to say the Islamic State is, in fact, un-Islamic. It is, of course, reassuring to know that the vast majority of Muslims have zero interest in replacing Hollywood movies with public executions as evening entertainment. But Muslims who call the Islamic State un-Islamic are typically, as the Princeton scholar Bernard Haykel, the leading expert on the group’s theology, told me, “embarrassed and politically correct, with a cotton-candy view of their own religion” that neglects “what their religion has historically and legally required.” Many denials of the Islamic State’s religious nature, he said, are rooted in an “interfaith-Christian-nonsense tradition.”

Every academic I asked about the Islamic State’s ideology sent me to Haykel. Of partial Lebanese descent, Haykel grew up in Lebanon and the United States, and when he talks through his Mephistophelian goatee, there is a hint of an unplaceable foreign accent.

According to Haykel, the ranks of the Islamic State are deeply infused with religious vigor. Koranic quotations are ubiquitous. “Even the foot soldiers spout this stuff constantly,” Haykel said. “They mug for their cameras and repeat their basic doctrines in formulaic fashion, and they do it all the time.” He regards the claim that the Islamic State has distorted the texts of Islam as preposterous, sustainable only through willful ignorance. “People want to absolve Islam,” he said. “It’s this ‘Islam is a religion of peace’ mantra. As if there is such a thing as ‘Islam’! It’s what Muslims do, and how they interpret their texts.” Those texts are shared by all Sunni Muslims, not just the Islamic State. “And these guys have just as much legitimacy as anyone else.”

All Muslims acknowledge that Muhammad’s earliest conquests were not tidy affairs, and that the laws of war passed down in the Koran and in the narrations of the Prophet’s rule were calibrated to fit a turbulent and violent time. In Haykel’s estimation, the fighters of the Islamic State are authentic throwbacks to early Islam and are faithfully reproducing its norms of war. This behavior includes a number of practices that modern Muslims tend to prefer not to acknowledge as integral to their sacred texts. “Slavery, crucifixion, and beheadings are not something that freakish [jihadists] are cherry-picking from the medieval tradition,” Haykel said. Islamic State fighters “are smack in the middle of the medieval tradition and are bringing it wholesale into the present day.”

Our failure to appreciate the essential differences between ISIS and al-Qaeda has led to dangerous decisions.

The Koran specifies crucifixion as one of the only punishments permitted for enemies of Islam. The tax on Christians finds clear endorsement in the Surah Al-Tawba, the Koran’s ninth chapter, which instructs Muslims to fight Christians and Jews “until they pay the jizya with willing submission, and feel themselves subdued.” The Prophet, whom all Muslims consider exemplary, imposed these rules and owned slaves.

Leaders of the Islamic State have taken emulation of Muhammad as strict duty, and have revived traditions that have been dormant for hundreds of years. “What’s striking about them is not just the literalism, but also the seriousness with which they read these texts,” Haykel said. “There is an assiduous, obsessive seriousness that Muslims don’t normally have.”

Before the rise of the Islamic State, no group in the past few centuries had attempted more-radical fidelity to the Prophetic model than the Wahhabis of 18th‑century Arabia. They conquered most of what is now Saudi Arabia, and their strict practices survive in a diluted version of Sharia there. Haykel sees an important distinction between the groups, though: “The Wahhabis were not wanton in their violence.” They were surrounded by Muslims, and they conquered lands that were already Islamic; this stayed their hand. “isis, by contrast, is really reliving the early period.” Early Muslims were surrounded by non-Muslims, and the Islamic State, because of its takfiri tendencies, considers itself to be in the same situation.

If al-Qaeda wanted to revive slavery, it never said so. And why would it? Silence on slavery probably reflected strategic thinking, with public sympathies in mind: when the Islamic State began enslaving people, even some of its supporters balked. Nonetheless, the caliphate has continued to embrace slavery and crucifixion without apology. “We will conquer your Rome, break your crosses, and enslave your women,” Adnani, the spokesman, promised in one of his periodic valentines to the West. “If we do not reach that time, then our children and grandchildren will reach it, and they will sell your sons as slaves at the slave market.”

In October, Dabiq, the magazine of the Islamic State, published “The Revival of Slavery Before the Hour,” an article that took up the question of whether Yazidis (the members of an ancient Kurdish sect that borrows elements of Islam, and had come under attack from Islamic State forces in northern Iraq) are lapsed Muslims, and therefore marked for death, or merely pagans and therefore fair game for enslavement. A study group of Islamic State scholars had convened, on government orders, to resolve this issue. If they are pagans, the article’s anonymous author wrote,

Yazidi women and children [are to be] divided according to the Shariah amongst the fighters of the Islamic State who participated in the Sinjar operations [in northern Iraq] … Enslaving the families of the kuffar [infidels] and taking their women as concubines is a firmly established aspect of the Shariah that if one were to deny or mock, he would be denying or mocking the verses of the Koran and the narrations of the Prophet … and thereby apostatizing from Islam.

II. Territory

Tens of thousands of foreign Muslims are thought to have immigrated to the Islamic State. Recruits hail from France, the United Kingdom, Belgium, Germany, Holland, Australia, Indonesia, the United States, and many other places. Many have come to fight, and many intend to die.

Peter R. Neumann, a professor at King’s College London, told me that online voices have been essential to spreading propaganda and ensuring that newcomers know what to believe. Online recruitment has also widened the demographics of the jihadist community, by allowing conservative Muslim women—physically isolated in their homes—to reach out to recruiters, radicalize, and arrange passage to Syria. Through its appeals to both genders, the Islamic State hopes to build a complete society.

In November, I traveled to Australia to meet Musa Cerantonio, a 30-year-old man whom Neumann and other researchers had identified as one of the two most important “new spiritual authorities” guiding foreigners to join the Islamic State. For three years he was a televangelist on Iqraa TV in Cairo, but he left after the station objected to his frequent calls to establish a caliphate. Now he preaches on Facebook and Twitter.

Cerantonio—a big, friendly man with a bookish demeanor—told me he blanches at beheading videos. He hates seeing the violence, even though supporters of the Islamic State are required to endorse it. (He speaks out, controversially among jihadists, against suicide bombing, on the grounds that God forbids suicide; he differs from the Islamic State on a few other points as well.) He has the kind of unkempt facial hair one sees on certain overgrown fans of The Lord of the Rings, and his obsession with Islamic apocalypticism felt familiar. He seemed to be living out a drama that looks, from an outsider’s perspective, like a medieval fantasy novel, only with real blood.

Last June, Cerantonio and his wife tried to emigrate—he wouldn’t say to where (“It’s illegal to go to Syria,” he said cagily)—but they were caught en route, in the Philippines, and he was deported back to Australia for overstaying his visa. Australia has criminalized attempts to join or travel to the Islamic State, and has confiscated Cerantonio’s passport. He is stuck in Melbourne, where he is well known to the local constabulary. If Cerantonio were caught facilitating the movement of individuals to the Islamic State, he would be imprisoned. So far, though, he is free—a technically unaffiliated ideologue who nonetheless speaks with what other jihadists have taken to be a reliable voice on matters of the Islamic State’s doctrine.

We met for lunch in Footscray, a dense, multicultural Melbourne suburb that’s home to Lonely Planet, the travel-guide publisher. Cerantonio grew up there in a half-Irish, half-Calabrian family. On a typical street one can find African restaurants, Vietnamese shops, and young Arabs walking around in the Salafi uniform of scraggly beard, long shirt, and trousers ending halfway down the calves.

Cerantonio explained the joy he felt when Baghdadi was declared the caliph on June 29—and the sudden, magnetic attraction that Mesopotamia began to exert on him and his friends. “I was in a hotel [in the Philippines], and I saw the declaration on television,” he told me. “And I was just amazed, and I’m like, Why am I stuck here in this bloody room?”

The last caliphate was the Ottoman empire, which reached its peak in the 16th century and then experienced a long decline, until the founder of the Republic of Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, euthanized it in 1924. But Cerantonio, like many supporters of the Islamic State, doesn’t acknowledge that caliphate as legitimate, because it didn’t fully enforce Islamic law, which requires stonings and slavery and amputations, and because its caliphs were not descended from the tribe of the Prophet, the Quraysh.

Baghdadi spoke at length of the importance of the caliphate in his Mosul sermon. He said that to revive the institution of the caliphate—which had not functioned except in name for about 1,000 years—was a communal obligation. He and his loyalists had “hastened to declare the caliphate and place an imam” at its head, he said. “This is a duty upon the Muslims—a duty that has been lost for centuries … The Muslims sin by losing it, and they must always seek to establish it.” Like bin Laden before him, Baghdadi spoke floridly, with frequent scriptural allusion and command of classical rhetoric. Unlike bin Laden, and unlike those false caliphs of the Ottoman empire, he is Qurayshi.

The caliphate, Cerantonio told me, is not just a political entity but also a vehicle for salvation. Islamic State propaganda regularly reports the pledges of baya’a (allegiance) rolling in from jihadist groups across the Muslim world. Cerantonio quoted a Prophetic saying, that to die without pledging allegiance is to die jahil (ignorant) and therefore die a “death of disbelief.” Consider how Muslims (or, for that matter, Christians) imagine God deals with the souls of people who die without learning about the one true religion. They are neither obviously saved nor definitively condemned. Similarly, Cerantonio said, the Muslim who acknowledges one omnipotent god and prays, but who dies without pledging himself to a valid caliph and incurring the obligations of that oath, has failed to live a fully Islamic life. I pointed out that this means the vast majority of Muslims in history, and all who passed away between 1924 and 2014, died a death of disbelief. Cerantonio nodded gravely. “I would go so far as to say that Islam has been reestablished” by the caliphate.

I asked him about his own baya’a, and he quickly corrected me: “I didn’t say that I’d pledged allegiance.” Under Australian law, he reminded me, giving baya’a to the Islamic State was illegal. “But I agree that [Baghdadi] fulfills the requirements,” he continued. “I’m just going to wink at you, and you take that to mean whatever you want.”

To be the caliph, one must meet conditions outlined in Sunni law—being a Muslim adult man of Quraysh descent; exhibiting moral probity and physical and mental integrity; and having ’amr, or authority. This last criterion, Cerantonio said, is the hardest to fulfill, and requires that the caliph have territory in which he can enforce Islamic law. Baghdadi’s Islamic State achieved that long before June 29, Cerantonio said, and as soon as it did, a Western convert within the group’s ranks—Cerantonio described him as “something of a leader”—began murmuring about the religious obligation to declare a caliphate. He and others spoke quietly to those in power and told them that further delay would be sinful.

Social-media posts from the Islamic State suggest that executions happen more or less continually.

Cerantonio said a faction arose that was prepared to make war on Baghdadi’s group if it delayed any further. They prepared a letter to various powerful members of isis, airing their displeasure at the failure to appoint a caliph, but were pacified by Adnani, the spokesman, who let them in on a secret—that a caliphate had already been declared, long before the public announcement. They had their legitimate caliph, and at that point there was only one option. “If he’s legitimate,” Cerantonio said, “you must give him the baya’a.”

After Baghdadi’s July sermon, a stream of jihadists began flowing daily into Syria with renewed motivation. Jürgen Todenhöfer, a German author and former politician who visited the Islamic State in December, reported the arrival of 100 fighters at one Turkish-border recruitment station in just two days. His report, among others, suggests a still-steady inflow of foreigners, ready to give up everything at home for a shot at paradise in the worst place on Earth.

Bernard Haykel, the foremost secular authority on the Islamic State’s ideology, believes the group is trying to re-create the earliest days of Islam and is faithfully reproducing its norms of war. “There is an assiduous, obsessive seriousness” about the group’s dedication to the text of the Koran, he says. (Peter Murphy)

In london, a week before my meal with Cerantonio, I met with three ex-members of a banned Islamist group called Al Muhajiroun (The Emigrants): Anjem Choudary, Abu Baraa, and Abdul Muhid. They all expressed desire to emigrate to the Islamic State, as many of their colleagues already had, but the authorities had confiscated their passports. Like Cerantonio, they regarded the caliphate as the only righteous government on Earth, though none would confess having pledged allegiance. Their principal goal in meeting me was to explain what the Islamic State stands for, and how its policies reflect God’s law.

Choudary, 48, is the group’s former leader. He frequently appears on cable news, as one of the few people producers can book who will defend the Islamic State vociferously, until his mike is cut. He has a reputation in the United Kingdom as a loathsome blowhard, but he and his disciples sincerely believe in the Islamic State and, on matters of doctrine, speak in its voice. Choudary and the others feature prominently in the Twitter feeds of Islamic State residents, and Abu Baraa maintains a YouTube channel to answer questions about Sharia.

Since September, authorities have been investigating the three men on suspicion of supporting terrorism. Because of this investigation, they had to meet me separately: communication among them would have violated the terms of their bail. But speaking with them felt like speaking with the same person wearing different masks. Choudary met me in a candy shop in the East London suburb of Ilford. He was dressed smartly, in a crisp blue tunic reaching nearly to his ankles, and sipped a Red Bull while we talked.

Before the caliphate, “maybe 85 percent of the Sharia was absent from our lives,” Choudary told me. “These laws are in abeyance until we have khilafa”—a caliphate—“and now we have one.” Without a caliphate, for example, individual vigilantes are not obliged to amputate the hands of thieves they catch in the act. But create a caliphate, and this law, along with a huge body of other jurisprudence, suddenly awakens. In theory, all Muslims are obliged to immigrate to the territory where the caliph is applying these laws. One of Choudary’s prize students, a convert from Hinduism named Abu Rumaysah, evaded police to bring his family of five from London to Syria in November. On the day I met Choudary, Abu Rumaysah tweeted out a picture of himself with a Kalashnikov in one arm and his newborn son in the other. Hashtag: #GenerationKhilafah.

The caliph is required to implement Sharia. Any deviation will compel those who have pledged allegiance to inform the caliph in private of his error and, in extreme cases, to excommunicate and replace him if he persists. (“I have been plagued with this great matter, plagued with this responsibility, and it is a heavy responsibility,” Baghdadi said in his sermon.) In return, the caliph commands obedience—and those who persist in supporting non-Muslim governments, after being duly warned and educated about their sin, are considered apostates.

Choudary said Sharia has been misunderstood because of its incomplete application by regimes such as Saudi Arabia, which does behead murderers and cut off thieves’ hands. “The problem,” he explained, “is that when places like Saudi Arabia just implement the penal code, and don’t provide the social and economic justice of the Sharia—the whole package—they simply engender hatred toward the Sharia.” That whole package, he said, would include free housing, food, and clothing for all, though of course anyone who wished to enrich himself with work could do so.

Abdul Muhid, 32, continued along these lines. He was dressed in mujahideen chic when I met him at a local restaurant: scruffy beard, Afghan cap, and a wallet outside of his clothes, attached with what looked like a shoulder holster. When we sat down, he was eager to discuss welfare. The Islamic State may have medieval-style punishments for moral crimes (lashes for boozing or fornication, stoning for adultery), but its social-welfare program is, at least in some aspects, progressive to a degree that would please an MSNBC pundit. Health care, he said, is free. (“Isn’t it free in Britain, too?,” I asked. “Not really,” he said. “Some procedures aren’t covered, such as vision.”) This provision of social welfare was not, he said, a policy choice of the Islamic State, but a policy obligation inherent in God’s law.

III. The Apocalypse

All Muslims acknowledge that God is the only one who knows the future. But they also agree that he has offered us a peek at it, in the Koran and in narrations of the Prophet. The Islamic State differs from nearly every other current jihadist movement in believing that it is written into God’s script as a central character. It is in this casting that the Islamic State is most boldly distinctive from its predecessors, and clearest in the religious nature of its mission.

In broad strokes, al-Qaeda acts like an underground political movement, with worldly goals in sight at all times—the expulsion of non-Muslims from the Arabian peninsula, the abolishment of the state of Israel, the end of support for dictatorships in Muslim lands. The Islamic State has its share of worldly concerns (including, in the places it controls, collecting garbage and keeping the water running), but the End of Days is a leitmotif of its propaganda. Bin Laden rarely mentioned the apocalypse, and when he did, he seemed to presume that he would be long dead when the glorious moment of divine comeuppance finally arrived. “Bin Laden and Zawahiri are from elite Sunni families who look down on this kind of speculation and think it’s something the masses engage in,” says Will McCants of the Brookings Institution, who is writing a book about the Islamic State’s apocalyptic thought.

During the last years of the U.S. occupation of Iraq, the Islamic State’s immediate founding fathers, by contrast, saw signs of the end times everywhere. They were anticipating, within a year, the arrival of the Mahdi—a messianic figure destined to lead the Muslims to victory before the end of the world. McCants says a prominent Islamist in Iraq approached bin Laden in 2008 to warn him that the group was being led by millenarians who were “talking all the time about the Mahdi and making strategic decisions” based on when they thought the Mahdi was going to arrive. “Al-Qaeda had to write to [these leaders] to say ‘Cut it out.’ ”

For certain true believers—the kind who long for epic good-versus-evil battles—visions of apocalyptic bloodbaths fulfill a deep psychological need. Of the Islamic State supporters I met, Musa Cerantonio, the Australian, expressed the deepest interest in the apocalypse and how the remaining days of the Islamic State—and the world—might look. Parts of that prediction are original to him, and do not yet have the status of doctrine. But other parts are based on mainstream Sunni sources and appear all over the Islamic State’s propaganda. These include the belief that there will be only 12 legitimate caliphs, and Baghdadi is the eighth; that the armies of Rome will mass to meet the armies of Islam in northern Syria; and that Islam’s final showdown with an anti-Messiah will occur in Jerusalem after a period of renewed Islamic conquest.

The Islamic State has attached great importance to the Syrian city of Dabiq, near Aleppo. It named its propaganda magazine after the town, and celebrated madly when (at great cost) it conquered Dabiq’s strategically unimportant plains. It is here, the Prophet reportedly said, that the armies of Rome will set up their camp. The armies of Islam will meet them, and Dabiq will be Rome’s Waterloo or its Antietam.

“Dabiq is basically all farmland,” one Islamic State supporter recently tweeted. “You could imagine large battles taking place there.” The Islamic State’s propagandists drool with anticipation of this event, and constantly imply that it will come soon. The state’s magazine quotes Zarqawi as saying, “The spark has been lit here in Iraq, and its heat will continue to intensify … until it burns the crusader armies in Dabiq.” A recent propaganda video shows clips from Hollywood war movies set in medieval times—perhaps because many of the prophecies specify that the armies will be on horseback or carrying ancient weapons.

Now that it has taken Dabiq, the Islamic State awaits the arrival of an enemy army there, whose defeat will initiate the countdown to the apocalypse. Western media frequently miss references to Dabiq in the Islamic State’s videos, and focus instead on lurid scenes of beheading. “Here we are, burying the first American crusader in Dabiq, eagerly waiting for the remainder of your armies to arrive,” said a masked executioner in a November video, showing the severed head of Peter (Abdul Rahman) Kassig, the aid worker who’d been held captive for more than a year. During fighting in Iraq in December, after mujahideen (perhaps inaccurately) reported having seen American soldiers in battle, Islamic State Twitter accounts erupted in spasms of pleasure, like overenthusiastic hosts or hostesses upon the arrival of the first guests at a party.

The Prophetic narration that foretells the Dabiq battle refers to the enemy as Rome. Who “Rome” is, now that the pope has no army, remains a matter of debate. But Cerantonio makes a case that Rome meant the Eastern Roman empire, which had its capital in what is now Istanbul. We should think of Rome as the Republic of Turkey—the same republic that ended the last self-identified caliphate, 90 years ago. Other Islamic State sources suggest that Rome might mean any infidel army, and the Americans will do nicely.

After mujahideen reported having seen American soldiers in battle, Islamic State Twitter accounts erupted in spasms of pleasure, like overenthusiastic hosts upon the arrival of the first guests at a party.

After its battle in Dabiq, Cerantonio said, the caliphate will expand and sack Istanbul. Some believe it will then cover the entire Earth, but Cerantonio suggested its tide may never reach beyond the Bosporus. An anti-Messiah, known in Muslim apocalyptic literature as Dajjal, will come from the Khorasan region of eastern Iran and kill a vast number of the caliphate’s fighters, until just 5,000 remain, cornered in Jerusalem. Just as Dajjal prepares to finish them off, Jesus—the second-most-revered prophet in Islam—will return to Earth, spear Dajjal, and lead the Muslims to victory.

“Only God knows” whether the Islamic State’s armies are the ones foretold, Cerantonio said. But he is hopeful. “The Prophet said that one sign of the imminent arrival of the End of Days is that people will for a long while stop talking about the End of Days,” he said. “If you go to the mosques now, you’ll find the preachers are silent about this subject.” On this theory, even setbacks dealt to the Islamic State mean nothing, since God has preordained the near-destruction of his people anyway. The Islamic State has its best and worst days ahead of it.

IV. The Fight

The ideological purity of the Islamic State has one compensating virtue: it allows us to predict some of the group’s actions. Osama bin Laden was seldom predictable. He ended his first television interview cryptically. CNN’s Peter Arnett asked him, “What are your future plans?” Bin Laden replied, “You’ll see them and hear about them in the media, God willing.” By contrast, the Islamic State boasts openly about its plans—not all of them, but enough so that by listening carefully, we can deduce how it intends to govern and expand.

In London, Choudary and his students provided detailed descriptions of how the Islamic State must conduct its foreign policy, now that it is a caliphate. It has already taken up what Islamic law refers to as “offensive jihad,” the forcible expansion into countries that are ruled by non-Muslims. “Hitherto, we were just defending ourselves,” Choudary said; without a caliphate, offensive jihad is an inapplicable concept. But the waging of war to expand the caliphate is an essential duty of the caliph.

Choudary took pains to present the laws of war under which the Islamic State operates as policies of mercy rather than of brutality. He told me the state has an obligation to terrorize its enemies—a holy order to scare the shit out of them with beheadings and crucifixions and enslavement of women and children, because doing so hastens victory and avoids prolonged conflict.

Choudary’s colleague Abu Baraa explained that Islamic law permits only temporary peace treaties, lasting no longer than a decade. Similarly, accepting any border is anathema, as stated by the Prophet and echoed in the Islamic State’s propaganda videos. If the caliph consents to a longer-term peace or permanent border, he will be in error. Temporary peace treaties are renewable, but may not be applied to all enemies at once: the caliph must wage jihad at least once a year. He may not rest, or he will fall into a state of sin.

One comparison to the Islamic State is the Khmer Rouge, which killed about a third of the population of Cambodia. But the Khmer Rouge occupied Cambodia’s seat at the United Nations. “This is not permitted,” Abu Baraa said. “To send an ambassador to the UN is to recognize an authority other than God’s.” This form of diplomacy is shirk, or polytheism, he argued, and would be immediate cause to hereticize and replace Baghdadi. Even to hasten the arrival of a caliphate by democratic means—for example by voting for political candidates who favor a caliphate—is shirk.

It’s hard to overstate how hamstrung the Islamic State will be by its radicalism. The modern international system, born of the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, relies on each state’s willingness to recognize borders, however grudgingly. For the Islamic State, that recognition is ideological suicide. Other Islamist groups, such as the Muslim Brotherhood and Hamas, have succumbed to the blandishments of democracy and the potential for an invitation to the community of nations, complete with a UN seat. Negotiation and accommodation have worked, at times, for the Taliban as well. (Under Taliban rule, Afghanistan exchanged ambassadors with Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and the United Arab Emirates, an act that invalidated the Taliban’s authority in the Islamic State’s eyes.) To the Islamic State these are not options, but acts of apostasy.

The united states and its allies have reacted to the Islamic State belatedly and in an apparent daze. The group’s ambitions and rough strategic blueprints were evident in its pronouncements and in social-media chatter as far back as 2011, when it was just one of many terrorist groups in Syria and Iraq and hadn’t yet committed mass atrocities. Adnani, the spokesman, told followers then that the group’s ambition was to “restore the Islamic caliphate,” and he evoked the apocalypse, saying, “There are but a few days left.” Baghdadi had already styled himself “commander of the faithful,” a title ordinarily reserved for caliphs, in 2011. In April 2013, Adnani declared the movement “ready to redraw the world upon the Prophetic methodology of the caliphate.” In August 2013, he said, “Our goal is to establish an Islamic state that doesn’t recognize borders, on the Prophetic methodology.” By then, the group had taken Raqqa, a Syrian provincial capital of perhaps 500,000 people, and was drawing in substantial numbers of foreign fighters who’d heard its message.

If we had identified the Islamic State’s intentions early, and realized that the vacuum in Syria and Iraq would give it ample space to carry them out, we might, at a minimum, have pushed Iraq to harden its border with Syria and preemptively make deals with its Sunnis. That would at least have avoided the electrifying propaganda effect created by the declaration of a caliphate just after the conquest of Iraq’s third-largest city. Yet, just over a year ago, Obama told The New Yorker that he considered isis to be al-Qaeda’s weaker partner. “If a jayvee team puts on Lakers uniforms that doesn’t make them Kobe Bryant,” the president said.

Our failure to appreciate the split between the Islamic State and al-Qaeda, and the essential differences between the two, has led to dangerous decisions. Last fall, to take one example, the U.S. government consented to a desperate plan to save Peter Kassig’s life. The plan facilitated—indeed, required—the interaction of some of the founding figures of the Islamic State and al-Qaeda, and could hardly have looked more hastily improvised.

It entailed the enlistment of Abu Muhammad al Maqdisi, the Zarqawi mentor and al-Qaeda grandee, to approach Turki al-Binali, the Islamic State’s chief ideologue and a former student of Maqdisi’s, even though the two men had fallen out due to Maqdisi’s criticism of the Islamic State. Maqdisi had already called for the state to extend mercy to Alan Henning, the British cabbie who had entered Syria to deliver aid to children. In December, The Guardian reported that the U.S. government, through an intermediary, had asked Maqdisi to intercede with the Islamic State on Kassig’s behalf.

Maqdisi was living freely in Jordan, but had been banned from communicating with terrorists abroad, and was being monitored closely. After Jordan granted the United States permission to reintroduce Maqdisi to Binali, Maqdisi bought a phone with American money and was allowed to correspond merrily with his former student for a few days, before the Jordanian government stopped the chats and used them as a pretext to jail Maqdisi. Kassig’s severed head appeared in the Dabiq video a few days later.

Maqdisi gets mocked roundly on Twitter by the Islamic State’s fans, and al‑Qaeda is held in great contempt for refusing to acknowledge the caliphate. Cole Bunzel, a scholar who studies Islamic State ideology, read Maqdisi’s opinion on Henning’s status and thought it would hasten his and other captives’ death. “If I were held captive by the Islamic State and Maqdisi said I shouldn’t be killed,” he told me, “I’d kiss my ass goodbye.”

Kassig’s death was a tragedy, but the plan’s success would have been a bigger one. A reconciliation between Maqdisi and Binali would have begun to heal the main rift between the world’s two largest jihadist organizations. It’s possible that the government wanted only to draw out Binali for intelligence purposes or assassination. (Multiple attempts to elicit comment from the FBI were unsuccessful.) Regardless, the decision to play matchmaker for America’s two main terrorist antagonists reveals astonishingly poor judgment.

Chastened by our earlier indifference, we are now meeting the Islamic State via Kurdish and Iraqi proxy on the battlefield, and with regular air assaults. Those strategies haven’t dislodged the Islamic State from any of its major territorial possessions, although they’ve kept it from directly assaulting Baghdad and Erbil and slaughtering Shia and Kurds there.

Some observers have called for escalation, including several predictable voices from the interventionist right (Max Boot, Frederick Kagan), who have urged the deployment of tens of thousands of American soldiers. These calls should not be dismissed too quickly: an avowedly genocidal organization is on its potential victims’ front lawn, and it is committing daily atrocities in the territory it already controls.

One way to un-cast the Islamic State’s spell over its adherents would be to overpower it militarily and occupy the parts of Syria and Iraq now under caliphate rule. Al‑Qaeda is ineradicable because it can survive, cockroach-like, by going underground. The Islamic State cannot. If it loses its grip on its territory in Syria and Iraq, it will cease to be a caliphate. Caliphates cannot exist as underground movements, because territorial authority is a requirement: take away its command of territory, and all those oaths of allegiance are no longer binding. Former pledges could of course continue to attack the West and behead their enemies, as freelancers. But the propaganda value of the caliphate would disappear, and with it the supposed religious duty to immigrate and serve it. If the United States were to invade, the Islamic State’s obsession with battle at Dabiq suggests that it might send vast resources there, as if in a conventional battle. If the state musters at Dabiq in full force, only to be routed, it might never recover.

And yet the risks of escalation are enormous. The biggest proponent of an American invasion is the Islamic State itself. The provocative videos, in which a black-hooded executioner addresses President Obama by name, are clearly made to draw America into the fight. An invasion would be a huge propaganda victory for jihadists worldwide: irrespective of whether they have given baya’a to the caliph, they all believe that the United States wants to embark on a modern-day Crusade and kill Muslims. Yet another invasion and occupation would confirm that suspicion, and bolster recruitment. Add the incompetence of our previous efforts as occupiers, and we have reason for reluctance. The rise of isis, after all, happened only because our previous occupation created space for Zarqawi and his followers. Who knows the consequences of another botched job?

Given everything we know about the Islamic State, continuing to slowly bleed it, through air strikes and proxy warfare, appears the best of bad military options. Neither the Kurds nor the Shia will ever subdue and control the whole Sunni heartland of Syria and Iraq—they are hated there, and have no appetite for such an adventure anyway. But they can keep the Islamic State from fulfilling its duty to expand. And with every month that it fails to expand, it resembles less the conquering state of the Prophet Muhammad than yet another Middle Eastern government failing to bring prosperity to its people.

The humanitarian cost of the Islamic State’s existence is high. But its threat to the United States is smaller than its all too frequent conflation with al-Qaeda would suggest. Al-Qaeda’s core is rare among jihadist groups for its focus on the “far enemy” (the West); most jihadist groups’ main concerns lie closer to home. That’s especially true of the Islamic State, precisely because of its ideology. It sees enemies everywhere around it, and while its leadership wishes ill on the United States, the application of Sharia in the caliphate and the expansion to contiguous lands are paramount. Baghdadi has said as much directly: in November he told his Saudi agents to “deal with the rafida [Shia] first … then al-Sulul [Sunni supporters of the Saudi monarchy] … before the crusaders and their bases.”

The foreign fighters (and their wives and children) have been traveling to the caliphate on one-way tickets: they want to live under true Sharia, and many want martyrdom. Doctrine, recall, requires believers to reside in the caliphate if it is at all possible for them to do so. One of the Islamic State’s less bloody videos shows a group of jihadists burning their French, British, and Australian passports. This would be an eccentric act for someone intending to return to blow himself up in line at the Louvre or to hold another chocolate shop hostage in Sydney.

A few “lone wolf” supporters of the Islamic State have attacked Western targets, and more attacks will come. But most of the attackers have been frustrated amateurs, unable to immigrate to the caliphate because of confiscated passports or other problems. Even if the Islamic State cheers these attacks—and it does in its propaganda—it hasn’t yet planned and financed one. (The Charlie Hebdo attack in Paris in January was principally an al‑Qaeda operation.) During his visit to Mosul in December, Jürgen Todenhöfer interviewed a portly German jihadist and asked whether any of his comrades had returned to Europe to carry out attacks. The jihadist seemed to regard returnees not as soldiers but as dropouts. “The fact is that the returnees from the Islamic State should repent from their return,” he said. “I hope they review their religion.”

Properly contained, the Islamic State is likely to be its own undoing. No country is its ally, and its ideology ensures that this will remain the case. The land it controls, while expansive, is mostly uninhabited and poor. As it stagnates or slowly shrinks, its claim that it is the engine of God’s will and the agent of apocalypse will weaken, and fewer believers will arrive. And as more reports of misery within it leak out, radical Islamist movements elsewhere will be discredited: No one has tried harder to implement strict Sharia by violence. This is what it looks like.

Even so, the death of the Islamic State is unlikely to be quick, and things could still go badly wrong: if the Islamic State obtained the allegiance of al‑Qaeda—increasing, in one swoop, the unity of its base—it could wax into a worse foe than we’ve yet seen. The rift between the Islamic State and al-Qaeda has, if anything, grown in the past few months; the December issue of Dabiq featured a long account of an al‑Qaeda defector who described his old group as corrupt and ineffectual, and Zawahiri as a distant and unfit leader. But we should watch carefully for a rapprochement.

Without a catastrophe such as this, however, or perhaps the threat of the Islamic State’s storming Erbil, a vast ground invasion would certainly make the situation worse.

V. Dissuasion

It would be facile, even exculpatory, to call the problem of the Islamic State “a problem with Islam.” The religion allows many interpretations, and Islamic State supporters are morally on the hook for the one they choose. And yet simply denouncing the Islamic State as un-Islamic can be counterproductive, especially if those who hear the message have read the holy texts and seen the endorsement of many of the caliphate’s practices written plainly within them.

Muslims can say that slavery is not legitimate now, and that crucifixion is wrong at this historical juncture. Many say precisely this. But they cannot condemn slavery or crucifixion outright without contradicting the Koran and the example of the Prophet. “The only principled ground that the Islamic State’s opponents could take is to say that certain core texts and traditional teachings of Islam are no longer valid,” Bernard Haykel says. That really would be an act of apostasy.

The Islamic State’s ideology exerts powerful sway over a certain subset of the population. Life’s hypocrisies and inconsistencies vanish in its face. Musa Cerantonio and the Salafis I met in London are unstumpable: no question I posed left them stuttering. They lectured me garrulously and, if one accepts their premises, convincingly. To call them un-Islamic appears, to me, to invite them into an argument that they would win. If they had been froth-spewing maniacs, I might be able to predict that their movement would burn out as the psychopaths detonated themselves or became drone-splats, one by one. But these men spoke with an academic precision that put me in mind of a good graduate seminar. I even enjoyed their company, and that frightened me as much as anything else.

Non-muslims cannot tell Muslims how to practice their religion properly. But Muslims have long since begun this debate within their own ranks. “You have to have standards,” Anjem Choudary told me. “Somebody could claim to be a Muslim, but if he believes in homosexuality or drinking alcohol, then he is not a Muslim. There is no such thing as a nonpracticing vegetarian.”

There is, however, another strand of Islam that offers a hard-line alternative to the Islamic State—just as uncompromising, but with opposite conclusions. This strand has proved appealing to many Muslims cursed or blessed with a psychological longing to see every jot and tittle of the holy texts implemented as they were in the earliest days of Islam. Islamic State supporters know how to react to Muslims who ignore parts of the Koran: with takfir and ridicule. But they also know that some other Muslims read the Koran as assiduously as they do, and pose a real ideological threat.

Baghdadi is Salafi. The term Salafi has been villainized, in part because authentic villains have ridden into battle waving the Salafi banner. But most Salafis are not jihadists, and most adhere to sects that reject the Islamic State. They are, as Haykel notes, committed to expanding Dar al-Islam, the land of Islam, even, perhaps, with the implementation of monstrous practices such as slavery and amputation—but at some future point. Their first priority is personal purification and religious observance, and they believe anything that thwarts those goals—such as causing war or unrest that would disrupt lives and prayer and scholarship—is forbidden.

They live among us. Last fall, I visited the Philadelphia mosque of Breton Pocius, 28, a Salafi imam who goes by the name Abdullah. His mosque is on the border between the crime-ridden Northern Liberties neighborhood and a gentrifying area that one might call Dar al-Hipster; his beard allows him to pass in the latter zone almost unnoticed.

A theological alternative to the Islamic State exists—just as uncompromising, but with opposite conclusions.

Pocius converted 15 years ago after a Polish Catholic upbringing in Chicago. Like Cerantonio, he talks like an old soul, exhibiting deep familiarity with ancient texts, and a commitment to them motivated by curiosity and scholarship, and by a conviction that they are the only way to escape hellfire. When I met him at a local coffee shop, he carried a work of Koranic scholarship in Arabic and a book for teaching himself Japanese. He was preparing a sermon on the obligations of fatherhood for the 150 or so worshipers in his Friday congregation.

Pocius said his main goal is to encourage a halal life for worshipers in his mosque. But the rise of the Islamic State has forced him to consider political questions that are usually very far from the minds of Salafis. “Most of what they’ll say about how to pray and how to dress is exactly what I’ll say in my masjid [mosque]. But when they get to questions about social upheaval, they sound like Che Guevara.”

When Baghdadi showed up, Pocius adopted the slogan “Not my khalifa.” “The times of the Prophet were a time of great bloodshed,” he told me, “and he knew that the worst possible condition for all people was chaos, especially within the umma [Muslim community].” Accordingly, Pocius said, the correct attitude for Salafis is not to sow discord by factionalizing and declaring fellow Muslims apostates.

Instead, Pocius—like a majority of Salafis—believes that Muslims should remove themselves from politics. These quietist Salafis, as they are known, agree with the Islamic State that God’s law is the only law, and they eschew practices like voting and the creation of political parties. But they interpret the Koran’s hatred of discord and chaos as requiring them to fall into line with just about any leader, including some manifestly sinful ones. “The Prophet said: as long as the ruler does not enter into clear kufr [disbelief], give him general obedience,” Pocius told me, and the classic “books of creed” all warn against causing social upheaval. Quietist Salafis are strictly forbidden from dividing Muslims from one another—for example, by mass excommunication. Living without baya’a, Pocius said, does indeed make one ignorant, or benighted. But baya’a need not mean direct allegiance to a caliph, and certainly not to Abu Bakr al‑Baghdadi. It can mean, more broadly, allegiance to a religious social contract and commitment to a society of Muslims, whether ruled by a caliph or not.

Quietist Salafis believe that Muslims should direct their energies toward perfecting their personal life, including prayer, ritual, and hygiene. Much in the same way ultra-Orthodox Jews debate whether it’s kosher to tear off squares of toilet paper on the Sabbath (does that count as “rending cloth”?), they spend an inordinate amount of time ensuring that their trousers are not too long, that their beards are trimmed in some areas and shaggy in others. Through this fastidious observance, they believe, God will favor them with strength and numbers, and perhaps a caliphate will arise. At that moment, Muslims will take vengeance and, yes, achieve glorious victory at Dabiq. But Pocius cites a slew of modern Salafi theologians who argue that a caliphate cannot come into being in a righteous way except through the unmistakable will of God.

The Islamic State, of course, would agree, and say that God has anointed Baghdadi. Pocius’s retort amounts to a call to humility. He cites Abdullah Ibn Abbas, one of the Prophet’s companions, who sat down with dissenters and asked them how they had the gall, as a minority, to tell the majority that it was wrong. Dissent itself, to the point of bloodshed or splitting the umma, was forbidden. Even the manner of the establishment of Baghdadi’s caliphate runs contrary to expectation, he said. “The khilafa is something that Allah is going to establish,” he told me, “and it will involve a consensus of scholars from Mecca and Medina. That is not what happened. isis came out of nowhere.”

The Islamic State loathes this talk, and its fanboys tweet derisively about quietist Salafis. They mock them as “Salafis of menstruation,” for their obscure judgments about when women are and aren’t clean, and other low-priority aspects of life. “What we need now is fatwa about how it’s haram [forbidden] to ride a bike on Jupiter,” one tweeted drily. “That’s what scholars should focus on. More pressing than state of Ummah.” Anjem Choudary, for his part, says that no sin merits more vigorous opposition than the usurpation of God’s law, and that extremism in defense of monotheism is no vice.

Pocius doesn’t court any kind of official support from the United States, as a counterweight to jihadism. Indeed, official support would tend to discredit him, and in any case he is bitter toward America for treating him, in his words, as “less than a citizen.” (He alleges that the government paid spies to infiltrate his mosque and harassed his mother at work with questions about his being a potential terrorist.)

Still, his quietist Salafism offers an Islamic antidote to Baghdadi-style jihadism. The people who arrive at the faith spoiling for a fight cannot all be stopped from jihadism, but those whose main motivation is to find an ultraconservative, uncompromising version of Islam have an alternative here. It is not moderate Islam; most Muslims would consider it extreme. It is, however, a form of Islam that the literal-minded would not instantly find hypocritical, or blasphemously purged of its inconveniences. Hypocrisy is not a sin that ideologically minded young men tolerate well.

Western officials would probably do best to refrain from weighing in on matters of Islamic theological debate altogether. Barack Obama himself drifted into takfiri waters when he claimed that the Islamic State was “not Islamic”—the irony being that he, as the non-Muslim son of a Muslim, may himself be classified as an apostate, and yet is now practicing takfir against Muslims. Non-Muslims’ practicing takfir elicits chuckles from jihadists (“Like a pig covered in feces giving hygiene advice to others,” one tweeted).

I suspect that most Muslims appreciated Obama’s sentiment: the president was standing with them against both Baghdadi and non-Muslim chauvinists trying to implicate them in crimes. But most Muslims aren’t susceptible to joining jihad. The ones who are susceptible will only have had their suspicions confirmed: the United States lies about religion to serve its purposes.

Within the narrow bounds of its theology, the Islamic State hums with energy, even creativity. Outside those bounds, it could hardly be more arid and silent: a vision of life as obedience, order, and destiny. Musa Cerantonio and Anjem Choudary could mentally shift from contemplating mass death and eternal torture to discussing the virtues of Vietnamese coffee or treacly pastry, with apparent delight in each, yet to me it seemed that to embrace their views would be to see all the flavors of this world grow insipid compared with the vivid grotesqueries of the hereafter.

I could enjoy their company, as a guilty intellectual exercise, up to a point. In reviewing Mein Kampf in March 1940, George Orwell confessed that he had “never been able to dislike Hitler”; something about the man projected an underdog quality, even when his goals were cowardly or loathsome. “If he were killing a mouse he would know how to make it seem like a dragon.” The Islamic State’s partisans have much the same allure. They believe that they are personally involved in struggles beyond their own lives, and that merely to be swept up in the drama, on the side of righteousness, is a privilege and a pleasure—especially when it is also a burden.

Fascism, Orwell continued, is psychologically far sounder than any hedonistic conception of life … Whereas Socialism, and even capitalism in a more grudging way, have said to people “I offer you a good time,” Hitler has said to them, “I offer you struggle, danger, and death,” and as a result a whole nation flings itself at his feet … We ought not to underrate its emotional appeal.

Nor, in the case of the Islamic State, its religious or intellectual appeal. That the Islamic State holds the imminent fulfillment of prophecy as a matter of dogma at least tells us the mettle of our opponent. It is ready to cheer its own near-obliteration, and to remain confident, even when surrounded, that it will receive divine succor if it stays true to the Prophetic model. Ideological tools may convince some potential converts that the group’s message is false, and military tools can limit its horrors. But for an organization as impervious to persuasion as the Islamic State, few measures short of these will matter, and the war may be a long one, even if it doesn’t last until the end of time.

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