Author: Orwa Ajjoub

Editor note: This article was originally published the Italian Institute for International Studies. 

The Islamist organization in power today in Damascus, Hay’at Tahrir al Sham, is grappling with the management of power and the unification of a country divided and torn apart by years of civil war. After having led a lightning advance against the Assad regime, starting from the governorate of Idlib where it had been confined for the last ten years or so and heading for the capital at the beginning of December 2024, it has completely changed its narrative from jihadism to ruling Islamism. A gradual and fundamentally pragmatic change that has the objective of maintaining power. The challenge of HTS is now to include all the components in the new Syria without distinctions between men and women, language and religion. A challenge that the leadership of the organization seems to have pragmatically accepted, but which still needs to be completely accepted by the base of the movement.

Jabhat al-Nusra’s Islamist narrative: lurching between ISIS and al-Qaeda

Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), formerly known as Jabhat al-Nusra, has undergone significant ideological, organizational, and alliance transformations since its foundation in 2012. This evolution occurred gradually, even during its affiliations with the Islamic State in Iraq and Al Qaeda, where its narrative remained distinct. Initially, when it was part of the Islamic State in Iraq (2012-April 2013), its approach was markedly less extreme than ISIS’s. Al-Nusra aimed to mobilize regional fighters to challenge Bashar al-Assad’s regime rather than to govern. Nevertheless, the group attracted thousands of foreign fighters into its ranks, especially in its early stage.  The group focused on supporting fellow Muslims in Syria, without displaying ambitions to rule. During this period, it also sought to forge connections and alliances with local factions and civilians, positioning itself primarily as a movement dedicated to fighting the Syrian regime and its allies.

In April 2013, Jabhat al-Nusra severed ties with the Islamic State in Iraq and aligned itself with al-Qaeda Central, led by Ayman al-Zawahiri. Contrary to expectations that the group would adopt a less extreme stance given al-Qaeda’s relatively moderated approach compared to the Islamic State in Iraq, Jabhat al-Nusra entered a more radical phase. This shift was largely due to defections by hundreds of foreign fighters who perceived the group’s leader, Abu Mohammad al-Jawlani (later known as Ahmed Al Sharaa, the self-appointed Syrian President), as too lenient. These fighters believed that the Islamic State in Iraq was more aligned with their views, leading to their departure.

To counteract this perception and retain his fighters, al-Jawlani sought to reaffirm Jabhat al-Nusra’s commitment to the Salafi jihadi cause, demonstrating that the group remained resolute and formidable. This period of competitive radicalization is exemplified by a 2015 incident where Shadi al-Waysu, then a judge and now the Minister of Justice under HTS, was filmed supervising public executions of women, underscoring the group’s hardened stance. Despite these actions, the group was internally conflicted about its direction. While it aimed to project strength and adherence to the Salafi jihadi cause to its members and enemies, it also sought to integrate and show solidarity with the local communities it was part of. Thus, during this period, Jabhat al-Nusra grappled with conflicting narratives about its identity and goals.

By 2016, Jabhat al-Nusra realized the high cost of its association with al-Qaeda and consequently severed ties. The group’s public discourse shifted from al-Qaeda’s global agenda to a more localized focus. They began to eliminate phrases with global connotations like “Jihad against the West” or “Jihad against secular states,” replacing them with terms emphasizing their focus on Syria, albeit with an Islamist orientation. This change was symbolically marked by their adoption of the Syrian revolutionary flag, modified only by adding the shahada, the Islamic declaration of faith. The initial signs of change emerged in 2016 when al-Jawlani publicly revealed his face for the first time. Until then, his identity had been concealed, known only by his voice. In this pivotal moment, he announced the severance of ties with al-Qaeda and declared that the group would no longer align with external organizations. This marked the beginning of a shift towards pragmatic moderation. By 2017, the leadership made concerted efforts to blend the Islamist elements of the group with a stronger nationalist focus, emphasizing their commitment solely to Syria.

HTS in power, and jihadism?

When Jabhat al-Nusra broke ties with al-Qaeda and rebranded as Jabhat Fateh al-Sham in 2016, it faced internal resistance from pro-al-Qaeda members within the group. Most of these members defected and formed Hurras al-Din, which remained affiliated with al-Qaeda in Syria. Although Hurras al-Din announced its dissolution last month, it had effectively ceased to exist in 2020 after HTS cracked down on it and shut down its military bases. Driven by a desire to survive and dominate northwest Syria, al-Jolani sought to merge with other local factions to integrate his group within the local Islamist opposition. This effort resulted in the formation of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) in 2017, a merger that included Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, Liwa al-Haqq, Army of the Sunna, Ansar al-Din, and Nur al-Din al-Zenki Movement. Some of these factions later defected from HTS, prompting the group to either dismantle or weaken them.

By 2017, HTS began promoting the concept of al-Kayan al-Sunni, or the Sunni entity, encapsulating the group’s narrative as the protector of Sunnis in Syria against the Alawite regime and its allies. This narrative remained largely unchanged until December 2024, when HTS advanced towards Damascus. During this operation, a radical shift occurred in their discourse, moving away from the notion of a Sunni entity to embrace a more inclusive slogan, “Syria for all Syrians.” This marked a significant change in their Islamist narrative as they approached the capital.

Currently the HTS’s state narrative talks about protecting all Syrians, regardless of their gender (here we mean men and women) or sect, which reflects its leadership’s high sense of pragmatic adaptability.  The leadership’s goal is to stabilize and solidify its power to ensure continued governance. Al-Sharaa is prepared to do whatever is necessary to achieve this, including engaging with minorities and forming a nominally inclusive government. This transition from a radical past to a more moderate position has not been smooth or complete. The leadership has responded to dissent within its ranks—those adhering to extreme and violent radicalism—by expelling, imprisoning, or executing them. 

The transformation within HTS was implemented through a top-down approach, with the leadership mandating a new direction and gradually enforcing it among its followers. The group has acknowledged its previous extremist behavior, positioning these actions as part of a past phase in its trajectory and implying a move away from such practices. For instance, when a 2015 video featuring the current Minister of Justice resurfaced and went viral recently, HTS confirmed its authenticity but emphasized that the actions were part of their history, without explicitly condemning them. Significantly, the minister involved was not removed from his position.

The challenge within HTS primarily lies in the relationship between its leadership and the organization’s base—its fighters and rank-and-file members—who have experienced the shift from the global jihadism of ISIS and AQ into to a governance-oriented Islamism. Until November 27, 2024, HTS publicly positioned itself as a defender of Sunni Islam, focusing on protecting the Sunni entity in Idlib. However, as they expanded their control into regions of Syria previously held by Assad, the leadership began advocating on behalf of all Syrians, shifting to a more inclusive rhetoric.This abrupt change in narrative presents a significant adjustment for the rank-and-file, who have been indoctrinated for years with the ideology of protecting Sunni identity. This transition may be challenging for fighters used to a narrower, sectarian viewpoint. Moreover, many HTS fighters, having never left the conservative environment of Idlib, are now encountering less conservative communities in Damascus. These new interactions could potentially foster deeper social changes within Syrian society, as human relationships evolve and influence perspectives and behaviours.

Editor note: This article was originally published on The Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung, Beirut Office.

The Syrian opposition’s military operation that led to the remarkable collapse of the Assad regime on December 8 drew attention to Hayet Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the group that led the offensive and has since assumed power. Understandably, much of this attention has been focused on the group’s radical past and previous links to the Islamic State IS and al-Qaeda and how they might affect its leadership’s future direction in ruling the country. While legitimate and important, these concerns stir the focus away from the pressing question of how HTS has survived more than a decade of intractable conflict, during which the country has witnessed the emergence, demise, and reconfiguration of many other groups. Answering this question could provide a broader understanding of the group’s constantly evolving worldview and may offer a glimpse into the future direction of its leadership.

A close look at HTS’s trajectory reveals a strong sense of pragmatism and adaptability, fueled by its leadership’s drive for survival and hunger for power. These defining traits have allowed the group to overcome multiple challenges, ensured its survival, aneventually assumed power over Syria today  – a position it appears to maintain to this day.

Leaving ISIS

For starters, HTS, initially known as Jabhat al-Nusra (JN), was established in 2011 as the clandestine Syrian branch of the Islamic State in Iraq (ISI), which was led by Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi. JN’s growing popularity, stemming largely from its disciplined fighters and effective collaboration with local Islamist factions against the Syrian regime, along with the ambition for independence of its leader, Abu Muhammad al-Jolani (better known as Ahmad al-Sharaa), prompted Baghdadi to bring this increasingly self-confident Syrian wing back under his direct leadership. In April 2013, Baghdadi unilaterally dissolved both JN and ISI to merge them into a new group called the Islamic State in Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS). Al-Jolani refused and instead pledged allegiance to al-Qaeda, which was theoretically the parent organization of both groups. This move prompted thousands of foreign fighters to defect to ISIS. It sparked a power struggle that eventually led to open conflict between the al-Jolnai’s group and ISIS that has lasted until today.

Shifting allegiance to al-Qaeda revealed an early sign of its leadership pragmatism. When asked about his decision to join al-Qaeda after leaving ISIS, al-Jolani told Martin Smith in 2021 that he needed the “symbolism” of al-Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri. As one of the most respected figures in the jihadi-Salafist movement, al-Zawahiri would give JN the legitimacy needed to mitigate the fallout of breaking away from ISIS. Indeed, there was little to suggest that ideological considerations prompted this move, which was arguably a clear attempt by al-Jolani to escape ISIS’s control while minimizing the damage of leaving it behind. 

Notwithstanding the differences between ISIS and al-Qaeda regarding the timing of establishing the caliphate and the nature and frequency of violence against opponents, JN still operated within the realm of jihadi-Salafism. Generally speaking, jihadi Salafis believe that violence is the only way to achieve socio-political change and that Shari’a law should serve as the sole source of legislation. Consequently, they view both democracy and the national state system as religiously illegitimat since these rely on man-made positivist laws. They also impose takfir—excommunication—on those they consider not to adhere to what they define as “true” Islam. For example, states are deemed infidel for not applying Shari’a law as their sole source of legislation.

Leaving Al-Qaeda 

Carrying the al-Qaeda  label came at a high price for JN. The US intensified its airstrikes, other local armed factions raised concerns about cooperating with the group, and ISIS launched military offensives to drive JN out of northeastern major cities such as Deir ez-Zor. All these factors pushed the pragmatic al-Jolani to adjust his strategy and reconsider his decision to represent AQ in Syria. In July 2016, he appeared in a video revealing his face to the public for the first time and announced that all operations under the JN banner were canceled in favor of forming Jabhat Fatah al-Sham (JFS). The international community, however, continued to classify it as a terrorist organization, and most local factions refused to merge with it, fearing international isolation and strained relations with supporting states. 

The logic behind divorcing al-Qaeda, merging with local factions, and embedding itself within the Syrian opposition was largely driven by the group’s leadership’s desire to remove itself from international terrorism lists. This strategy would ensure its survival and help avoid strikes from the US-led international coalition, which had inflicted significant damage on ISIS and, to a lesser degree, on JFS. After an intense round of negotiations, the group managed to secure a merger with three local factions—Liwaa al-Haqq, Jaysh al-Sunnah, and Ansar al-Din—culminating in the establishment of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) in 2017. 

HTS, the last rebranding

The establishment of HTS was a watershed moment for the group, marking the beginning of a gradual shift from jihad to politics. To facilitate this transition, it set up its semi-technocratic Salvation Government, which has received substantial criticism for its performance and lack of transparency due to HTS’s top-down approach to governance. Additionally, the group established its General Security apparatus, which has played a significant role in quashing dissent against the leadership and maintaining economic dominance in the region.

On the military front, the group sought to monopolize violence in its areas of operation and control. Between 2017 and 2022, HTS fought and defeated its former allies among local Islamist groups—such as Nour al-Din al-Zinki and Ahrar al-Sham—depriving them of the economic lifeline provided by the Idlib Bab al-Hawa crossing. It also put an end to Hurras al-Din, an al-Qaeda affiliate established by a top al-Qaeda loyalist who defected from HTS after its divorce from al-Qaeda, rejecting HTS’s ruthless pragmatism.

HTS leadership recognized that the nation-state system was the only viable framework for survival, necessitating cooperation with state actors. By 2017, HTS began establishing relations with Turkey—a state that was considered an infidel due to its secular nature. Additionally, HTS expelled senior members who still held old, extreme jihadi-Salafist views, especially those who rejected cooperation with Ankara. Ironically, HTS had previously fought local groups for accepting Turkish support and participating in Astana political talks about Syria, in which Ankara acted as guarantor. Additionally, HTS has shared intelligence with NATO through Turkey to target high-value targets of IS and al-Qaeda, signaling its readiness to become a partner with the international community war on terror. 

On the ideological level, HTS leadership has actively sought to dominate the religious sphere in Idlib and reshape the ideological orientations of its ranks. In March 2019, HTS established the Supreme Council of Fatwa—managed by al-Jolani’s advisers—to monopolize fatwa production (formal rulings or interpretations of Islamic law by qualified scholars). This central religious authority was designed to diminish the influence of global jihadi-Salafi ideologues and curb the sway of the remaining extremists within the group. Notwithstanding these efforts, hardline views within HTS’s rank and file still exist today, especially when it comes to applying democracy and dealing with other sects. 

HTS in power

For more than a year before the operation that toppled Assad, HTS-controlled areas in north west Syria witnessed public demonstrations calling for the removal of al-Sharaa, the release of detainees—many of whom had been tortured—and the establishment of an inclusive governance system. Paradoxically, HTS’s response was relatively restrained, with few casualties reported and only superficial reforms implemented. With HTS’s operation toppling Assad, al-Jolani transformed himself into a hero and put his adversaries in a delicate position where they must either comply with his rule or remain sidelined.

The international community finds itself in a dilemma on how to proceed. On one hand, toppling Assad was a desired outcome for most of its members, but having HTS, with its radical past, lead this effort complicates their calculus. Nevertheless, examining HTS’s trajectory reveals that the group is primarily driven by its leadership’s ambition for survival and hegemony. HTS has engaged in conflicts with various factions that possess different political and ideological backgrounds, suggesting that the group is not strongly committed to any specific ideological principles. In other words, it is largely politics that drive the group’s behaviors. 

Driven by political calculation, HTS leadership has genuinely changed over the last decade. While hardline elements still operate under the group’s banner, its leadership’s strive for rule that requires an inclusive, national direction is likely to prevail. HTS’s pragmatism is a double-edged sword; on the one hand, it means that al-Sharaa is willing to adopt new positions on issues such as women and minorities, but on the other, he might be ready to go to extreme lengths to stay in power.

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^{1 The group has been known by different names corresponding to distinct periods—ISI (Islamic State of Iraq)
from October 2006 to April 2013, ISIS/ISIL (Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham) from April 2013 to June 2014,
and IS (Islamic State) from June 2014 to the present.}

^{2 Martin Smith, an American journalist and producer, made a documentary about HTS and its leader titled “The
Jihadist” in 2021.}

Editor’s note: This is part two of a three-part series blog post. For part one, see Orwa Ajjoub’s review, “On Salafism: Concepts and Contexts.“

The second book that covers a different aspect of Sunni Jihadism is Nelly Lahood’s The Jihadis’ Path to Self-Destruction. Lahoud examines the internal dynamics and ideological foundations of jihadi groups, particularly how their ideological disagreement may lead to their downfall or self-destruction. The book aims to address the overarching question of “whether the religious philosophy of jihadis is sustainable and whether it will lead them to realize the Caliphate or Islamic State they aspire to achieve” (p. xvii). Structured into five chapters, Lahoud’s book is designed for selective reading, with each being independently comprehensive. ‘Past and Present Jihadis’, ‘Contesting Islam: The Kharijites’, ‘Islam Re-considered: Islamism and Jihadism’, ‘Why jihad and not Democracy’ and ‘Islam Giveth, Islam Taketh Away: Takfir and Jihad’. Notably, chapter two diverges from the focus on contemporary jihadism to explore the Kharijites, an early Islamic sect that emerged from the political chaos following the assassination of the third Caliph, Uthman, and the subsequent conflict between Ali and Muawiya, who competed for the title of the fourth Caliph. The Kharijites are known for their strict puritanism and the principle that leadership should solely be based on piety, leading to violent conflicts with other Muslim factions and within their own ranks (p. 31-40). This historical examination provides context for understanding modern jihadist ideologies.

Lahoud offers critical reading of the contemporary polemical discourse claiming that because of their violent actions, the jihadist are the heirs of the Kharijites. Also, it considers jihadi response to such accusations and proceeds to present a balanced comparisons between the doctrinal beliefs of the Kharijites and today’s jihadis, most notably their Scripturalism, their individualism in interpreting scriptural, including resorting to takfir and to individual jihad in defence if their religious principles. This approach in dealing with the ‘other’, according to Lahoud is what separated the Kharijites from the larger Muslim community and is separating contemporary jihadis from the rest of the Muslim community. Yet, significant differences exist. Today’s jihadis look up to the salaf al-salihin (the pious predecessors; the first three generations of Muslims) as exemplary figures, whereas the Kharijites opposed this emerging orthodoxy, which they saw as a betrayal of God’s law. ‘The Islam challenged by the Kharijites is the same Islam that jihadis aim to restore… The Kharijites opposed an Islam evolving into an empire, whereas jihadis oppose an Islam diminishing into nation-states’ (p. 94). While such argument could partly explain why jihadi group fight each other’s, it seems to overlook other factors (social, political and personal) that could influence jihadis leaders’ decision to peruse inter and intra group violence. In other words, the argument places too much emphasis on the role ideology plays in legitimizing violence among jihads.   

A central argument running through the book is that internal divisions among jihadis, that is based on their ideological rigidity, significantly hinder their unity, like the historical Kharijites whose doctrinal inflexibility led to internal strife (p. 54). Notably, the book’s 2010 publication predated the Islamic State’s caliphate declaration by four years, providing a context for evaluating Lahoud’s hypothesis. Although internal ideological conflicts have played an important role in weakening of the Islamic State, the group initially overcame these disputes, declaring a caliphate in 2014 and controlling vast territories in Syria and Iraq. While Lahoud’s argument was vindicated by the group’s internal divisions contributing to its downfall, external pressures, such as the US-led coalition’s military intervention, were decisive in ending the Islamic State’s territorial control in March 2019. Nonetheless, the jihadis managed to maintain their caliphate for around two years.

Political Islam or Islamism has long been the accepted conceptual umbrella under which jihadi groups have been studied. This approach has led some to categorize jihadis as Islamists, a classification that Lahoud challenges by highlighting the ideological and political differences between jihadis and other groups like the Muslim Brotherhood, which are more accurately described as Islamists (p. 98). While Islamists emphasize allegiance to their group and leaders, functioning within the confines of nation-state politics and prioritizing extensive religious education for their followers before any action, Jihadis, on the other hand, reject the nation-state concept, favor enthusiasm over religious education, and support individual autonomy in interpretation and decision-making (p. 149).

One of the significant contributions of the book is its examination of why jihadis leave their countries for jihad in places where death could be imminent. Given the book’s intense focus on the textual analysis of jihadi intellectual outputs, a more precise question might be what ideas and arguments from jihadi ideologues legitimize these actions. Under the title ‘From Islamization to Jihadization of Islam,’ Lahoud traces the conceptual evolution of jihad and how the concept has been radicalized from the 1960s with Islamist Muslim Brotherhood ideologue Sayyid Qutb to other ideologues who transformed it into a doctrinal issue (p. 117). This aligns with Bishara’s argument about the evolution of Salafi thought across different historical epochs.

The book is detailed and dense, which may present a challenge for those not already versed in the subject. However, scholars interested in the theological and philosophical aspects of jihadism will discover essential insights necessary for understanding the complexities of this phenomenon.

Azmi Bishara’s book, On Salafism: Concepts and Contexts, takes a deep dive into Salafism, aiming to clear up some of the confusion around this important but often misunderstood tradition of Islam.[1] Bishara looks into what Salafism really means, how it has changed over time, and its impact today. The book breaks down different views within Salafism and looks at why these differences matter. Bishara’s work helps readers get a clearer picture of Salafism, making it easier to understand its role in both history and the modern world.

Bishara’s book is divided into four relatively long chapters: ‘What is Salafism?’, ‘On Apostasy’, ‘Religious Associations and Political Movements’, and ‘Wahhabism in Context’. The book lays a foundational understanding of Salafism, detailing its key concepts and their application in various contexts, thus offering a broader understanding of the ideological roots of certain jihadi movements. From the start, Bishara critically addresses the terminological confusion surrounding terms such as ‘Salafism’ and how it has evolved and been used in modern times by many Western academics and policymakers. Generally, Salafism is understood to mean exclusive adherence to the Quran, Sunna teachings, and the practices of the first three generations of Islam, while eschewing innovation. Nevertheless, as Bishara argues, the term has transformed over the years across different socio-political contexts, meaning that it has been reproduced in several forms, thereby necessitating the discussion of multiple Salafisms, as opposed to a singular Salafism. 

Bishara distinguishes between different types of Salafism, delineating a crucial distinction in contemporary Islamic thought and practice. He defines ‘conservative’ or ‘traditionalist’ Salafism, which describes the Islamic institution in Saudi Arabia, also known as Wahhabism, as an approach that legitimizes current rulers, rooted in emulating the Prophet Muhammad and his companions, along with unwavering obedience and allegiance to an imam—that is, a ruler who governs in accordance with Sharia law. Conversely, Bishara characterizes ‘revolutionary’ jihadi Salafism as a contrasting interpretation that invokes the same early Islamic figures to challenge and discredit incumbent regimes (p. 30). This type of Salafism, associated with groups like al-Qaeda and the Islamic State, often labels Muslim leaders as apostates, even if they publicly conform to Islamic precepts and hold religious titles. Another variant, often overlooked in policy discussions, is ‘Reformist Salafism,’ which, unlike other Salafi traditions, calls for a return to Islam’s roots not for imitation but for inspiration from early teachings when addressing contemporary issues (p. 15). This distinction is vital not only for academic clarification but also for formulating effective policies to address the phenomenon.

Chapter two engages with one of the most fundamental and consequential concepts in Islam, namely takfir or apostasy.[2]Building on the arguments presented in the first chapter about the heterogeneity of Salafism, Bishara demonstrates that not only do different strands of Salafism apply various methods to excommunicate others and legitimize violence against them, but even within a particular strand of Salafism, there exist contradictions on how to apply the concept. In theory, Salafi doctrine identifies ignorance, coercion, and unintentional errors as protective against declarations of infidelity among Muslims; however, Bishara points out that there is considerable contention within ‘revolutionary’ jihadi Salafism regarding this, particularly the interpretation of ignorance, as evidenced by al-Qaeda’s position against excommunicating ordinary Shi’a due to religious ignorance, contrasting with its Iraqi affiliate’s refusal of this stance, resulting in widespread violence against the Shi’a community. (P

The third chapter explores the various strands of Salafism and how they are shaped by different socio-political contexts and sometimes unintended intellectual borrowings from other radical groups, both Islamist and secular. Bishara challenges the Salafi narrative of a continuous ideological lineage from their intellectual ancestors, such as Ahmad Ibn Hanbal (780–855 CE), Ibn Taymiyya (1263–1328 CE), and Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab (1703–1792), noting that followers and ideologues have historically reinterpreted the teachings of these figures, and often and reproduced a much radical version of their work (p. 64). This observation counters orientalist views on the static nature of not just Salafism but also Islam as a ‘discursive tradition,’ as Talal Asad describes. It also disputes claims that contemporary Salafism is merely a revivalist movement, arguing instead that Islamist movements arising in the modern context of nation-states and modernization are indeed contemporary, addressing current issues through historical lenses, yet remain distinctly modern. (p. 79)

The final chapter scrutinizes Wahhabism as a version of Salafism derived from the intellectual synergy between Ahmad Ibn Hanbal (780–855 CE) and Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab (1703–1792). Significantly, Bishara demostarte the reasons behind the successful expansion of Abd al-Wahhab’s initially marginal religious call, which came to dominate and represent Saudi Arabia’s religious establishment. He attributes this success to the political alliance between the Saudi rulers of the time and Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab, which empowered the latter to spread his teachings, and to the weakness of religious institutions and traditions in Saudi Arabia’s rural areas, enabling such teachings to thrive (P.127). This sociological analysis offers a more nuanced comprehension of the interplay between religion and society, acknowledging the role of religious belief while also considering a spectrum of additional factors.

The book is conceptually rich and crucial for scholars of Salafism and jihadism. Yet, it would benefit from additional citations, particularly for minor arguments made by the author. Despite this, its insightful analysis and depth of knowledge make it a valuable contribution to the field.

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[1] Bishara, Azmi. 2022. On Salafism: Concepts and Contexts. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

[2] In jihadism literature, the term ‘apostasy’ is frequently translated as ‘excommunication’ to provide a more precise and contextually relevant meaning within Islamic doctrinal discussions. While apostasy typically describes the act of abandoning Islam, excommunication denotes the process through which jihadis legitimize violence against individuals they consider to be excommunicated.