These examples suggest that women’s leadership was neither alien nor unacceptable in early Islamic practice.

The discourse surrounding women’s leadership in Islam is complex and deeply contested. Recently a female leader from Jamaat-e-Islami cited a Qur’anic verse to argue that Islam prohibits women from holding leadership roles. The verse quoted was “Men are qawwamun over women” (Surah An-Nisa 4:34).

A closer textual and historical reading however reveals that this verse was revealed in a specific domestic context. Classical interpretations indicate that it addressed household responsibility and accountability during a marital dispute rather than questions of political authority or governance. The emphasis of the verse lies on responsibility not dominance.

If the verse had intended to establish a permanent hierarchy between men and women the Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him would not have considered punitive action against a husband accused of wrongdoing.

This context makes it clear that the verse cannot be used as a blanket prohibition against women’s leadership.

Islamic history further complicates the claim of prohibition. The Qur’an does not condemn the rule of Queen Bilqis of Sheba. Instead, her wisdom and consultative leadership are presented positively.

Shifa bint Abdullah was entrusted with administrative authority in Madinah. Aisha may God be pleased with her was a leading authority in hadith jurisprudence and political understanding.

Khadijah may God be pleased with her was economically independent and decisive in commercial affairs.

These examples suggest that women’s leadership was neither alien nor unacceptable in early Islamic practice.

The Qur’an states that women have rights similar to the obligations upon them. It also describes believing men and women as allies of one another. Such language implies partnership and shared responsibility rather than fixed subordination.

The modern political implications are equally significant. If women’s leadership were truly forbidden then women occupying spokesperson or organizational roles within political parties would themselves be violating that principle. This contradiction becomes even more pronounced when parties operate within legal frameworks that mandate women’s representation.

Ultimately the debate over women’s leadership in Islam is less about clear textual prohibition and more about selective interpretation. A balanced reading of the Qur’an Islamic history and contemporary realities suggests that women’s leadership is not inherently incompatible with Islamic principles.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Deoband’s embrace of the Taliban foreign minister is dangerous — but also offers an opening.

Amir Khan Muttaqi, Foreign Minister of the Taliban-led government in Afghanistan and a senior figure in its political and ideological leadership, has recently completed a six-day visit to India — an episode loaded with meaning.

From his informal ban on female journalists, to the cancellation of his Agra leg, and his carefully choreographed stop at the Vivekananda Foundation. Yet, it is his visit to Dar ul Uloom Deoband, the theological heart of South Asian Deobandi Islam, that has invited sharpest scrutiny.

For years, Indian Muslims — particularly those aligned with the Deobandi school — have tried to draw a distinction between “their Islam,” described as democratic and egalitarian, and the Taliban’s brutal, patriarchal regime. Muttaqi’s pilgrimage to his ideological fountainhead has challenged that narrative.

When the Taliban’s foreign minister visits Deoband, and the seminary receives him with honor, it becomes almost impossible to sustain the claim that the Taliban are merely “misguided” Muslims. Why, then, should men who have subjugated women and silenced dissent be treated as heroes?

What emerges instead is a chilling recognition: the Taliban are not a deviation from Deobandi Islam according to the seminary, but one of its most literal political manifestations.

The confusion within India’s religiously-inclined Muslim intelligentsia over how to respond to this visit is telling — and repetitive. Some rush to rationalize it as “cultural diplomacy” or a gesture of goodwill in the national interest, strangely bringing the Muslim right and the Hindu right onto the same page.

Others recoil in discomfort but stop short of open criticism. Deoband’s endorsement of Muttaqi symbolically affirms the very doctrines that have justified gender apartheid, banned girls from education, and institutionalized moral policing across Afghanistan.

This moment is not merely about Afghanistan; it reflects a moral crisis within Indian muslims as well — a refusal to confront its own regressive solidarities under the pretext of religious kinship. The spectacle of Deoband greeting Muttaqi with reverence reveals the unbroken theological thread linking the 19th seminary to the taliban led theocratic governance.

Deoband’s embrace of the Taliban foreign minister is dangerous — but also offers an opening. If the Taliban truly draw their ideological legitimacy from Deoband, then Deoband carries a moral responsibility: to humanize that ideology, to insist that justice and compassion, not repression, define Islam.

The seminary has a proud history of standing against colonial injustice and for India’s freedom. Can it now stand for Afghan women denied education, or men imprisoned for thought?

If Dar ul Uloom Deoband wishes to remain relevant in a plural democracy, it must decide where it stands — with democracy, gender justice, and education, or with those who burn books, bury dissent, and blind the future of half their population.

Iran’s rhetoric on Al-Quds is a convenient cloak. It allows Tehran to rally the Muslim street, divide Arab ranks, and export its revolution under the guise of defending Islam’s third holiest site

As flags rise and chants echo on Al-Quds Day, many in the Muslim world assume Iran’s fervor for the Palestinian cause is rooted in deep religious obligation. But beneath the slogans lies a political strategy that has little to do with theology—and far more to do with geopolitics.

Since the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the Iranian regime has positioned itself as the self-appointed vanguard of resistance against Israel. It institutionalized “Al-Quds Day” on the last Friday of Ramadan, not merely to express solidarity with Palestinians, but to amplify its ideological footprint across the Arab world.

Yet, a closer look at Shiite theology reveals contradictions. According to core Shiite beliefs, the holiest Islamic sites are not in Jerusalem, but in Iraq—specifically Najaf, Karbala, Kufa, and Samarra. These cities house the tombs of the Imams and are considered more sacred in Shiite jurisprudence than Al-Aqsa in Jerusalem.

Emirati peace activist and Islamic historian Loay Al-Shareef highlighted this dichotomy in a recent video. Citing classical Shiite scholars like Al-Qulayni and early interpretations of the Prophet’s night journey (Isra and Mi’raj), Al-Shareef emphasized that in Shiite doctrine, the “Al-Aqsa” mentioned in the Qur’an is often viewed as a celestial mosque in the heavens, not the physical mosque in Jerusalem.

He further pointed out that numerous Shiite jurists have historically ranked the mosques of Iraq far above those of the Levant, including Jerusalem. “So why today do you hear Shiite Iran chanting about Free Palestine or Al-Quds Day? It’s political, not theological”, he says.

Indeed, Iran’s support for Palestinian factions—especially Hamas, a Sunni Islamist group—is not rooted in sectarian affinity. Rather, it is a tactical move to project power across the Sunni Arab world and challenge the influence of regional powers like Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the Gulf States.

Loay said, “After the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the new Iranian regime hijacked the Palestinian cause. Not because of religious devotion to Jerusalem, but because Israel stands as a barrier, a deterrence.”

“A strong Israel prevents Iran from expanding its influence across the Sunni Muslim world. It’s not about Palestine, it’s about power”, he added.

This was confirmed by leaked Iranian documents in past years, which revealed Tehran’s deep involvement in proxy networks across Lebanon, Iraq, Syria, and Yemen. The goal: surround Israel and rival Sunni regimes with ideological allies.

More recently, a chilling warning came from Mohammad Marandi, former adviser to Iran’s nuclear negotiating team. In a post on X, Marandi threatened that if the U.S. joined the war, the governments of Qatar, Kuwait, UAE, and Bahrain “would not last more than a few days or even a few hours.” He urged immediate evacuation from these countries—remarkably excluding Saudi Arabia from his threat.

Author and former MI6 spy Aimen Dean noted that Iran’s Ariana News Agency had repeated this threat, calling for retaliation not against Israel, but against GCC states—underscoring once again that Tehran’s war posture is about regional dominance, not Palestinian liberation.

What this reveals is sobering: Iran’s rhetoric on Al-Quds is a convenient cloak. It allows Tehran to rally the Muslim street, divide Arab ranks, and export its revolution under the guise of defending Islam’s third holiest site—one it does not even hold supreme in its own theology.

Meanwhile, the Palestinian cause becomes a pawn. Iran’s influence has deepened internal divisions within Palestinian factions, with rivalries between Hamas and Fatah escalating over foreign loyalties. The people of Gaza and the West Bank suffer, while Iranian media broadcasts dramatized images of “resistance.”

In this equation, truth and theology are casualties. As Gulf nations modernize, diversify, and move toward normalization and regional stability, they are increasingly targeted—not by Israel—but by Tehran’s ideological militias and cyber proxies.

If the world is to have an honest conversation about Al-Quds, it must start by untangling faith from strategy. Iran’s flags may fly high on Quds Day, but what drives them is not religious obligation—it is geopolitical ambition.

The Muslim Brotherhood is a shape-shifting ideology. Sometimes it appears as social activism, other times as religious outreach.

Loay Al-Shareef, an Emirati peace activist and respected voice in the Arab reformist movement, recently issued a stark warning to American campuses and political leaders: the Muslim Brotherhood must be banned before its toxic ideology causes further harm.

His message is not one of political convenience or ideological vengeance. It is a cry rooted in personal experience, cultural insight, and a sincere concern for both the Arab world and the West.

Al-Shareef has visited more than 15 American universities, speaking alongside fellow Arab Muslim activists who once lived under the shadow of the very ideology they now confront. His mission is clear—to expose the dangers of the Muslim Brotherhood and its military wing, Hamas, before more young minds are seduced by the movement’s deceptively noble slogans.

He is often asked: Why this relentless warning? His answer is powerful in its simplicity: “Because we know their evil better than anyone else on the planet.”

This isn’t abstract theory or secondhand knowledge. Many of these reformers were once indoctrinated with the Brotherhood’s ideas—raised on narratives of victimhood, infused with theological justifications for hatred, and programmed to see the world through a rigid binary of believers versus enemies. But some, like Al-Shareef, broke free. And in that awakening, they saw not just the lie—they saw the machinery behind it.

The Muslim Brotherhood is a shape-shifting ideology. Sometimes it appears as social activism, other times as religious outreach. But in moments of global attention—especially during crises in Gaza or Jerusalem—it wears the mask of “resistance” and “liberation.” That’s when slogans like “Free Palestine” or “From the river to the sea” are weaponized. To the uninformed, they echo human rights and justice. To those who know the ideology’s roots, they are coded calls for extermination and destruction.

Al-Shareef’s perspective forces an uncomfortable but necessary re-examination. The West, particularly liberal institutions in the U.S., often romanticize political Islamists as representatives of “authentic” Muslim identity. Yet the reality is far more complex—and dangerous. The Muslim Brotherhood has long perfected the art of double-speak: peace in English, militancy in Arabic; democracy in the West, theocracy at home.

The tragedy is that many Western politicians and diplomats continue to give these preachers a pass. Whether out of ignorance, fear of being labeled “Islamophobic,” or naïve idealism, this tolerance is enabling the very ideologies that fuel radicalization, antisemitism, and violence.

Al-Shareef is not anti-Palestinian. He, like many in the Arab world, supports justice and dignity for Palestinians. But he draws a line between a genuine pursuit of peace and the manipulation of that cause by Islamist actors who have hijacked it for their own ideological war.

His call to ban the Muslim Brotherhood in America is not just about foreign policy. It’s about safeguarding the social fabric of democratic societies. It’s about recognizing antisemitism—not as a political position, but as a crime with deadly consequences. And it’s about listening to those who have walked through the fire and come out with scars and clarity.

The next time a “Free Palestine” protest escalates into violence, as many unfortunately have in recent months, remember this warning: the danger isn’t just spontaneous—it’s ideological, well-organized, and globally connected.

Loay Al-Shareef’s message to America is not anti-Muslim. It’s anti-extremist. It’s a call for nuance, courage, and truth in a time when too many prefer slogans to substance.

The West must listen to those who know the mask behind the movement. Before it’s too late.

This not only strengthens Pakistan’s foothold in Turkey’s strategic calculations but also aligns with Erdogan’s broader ambitions to lead the Muslim Ummah.

On August 15, 2019, a seemingly emotional piece appeared in a Turkish publication. Written by Ruwa Shah, the daughter of jailed Kashmiri separatist Altaf Ahmad Shah, the article lamented the “besieged” condition of Kashmir, portraying a picture of despair and victimhood. Shah, writing from Turkey, decried the “loss of childhood” among Kashmiri children—despite living thousands of miles away from the region.

While the article may appear at first glance to be a personal narrative, its deeper context and timing are far more consequential. The piece, and many others like it published in Turkish media, reflect an expanding ecosystem of information warfare aimed at maligning India’s global image, particularly in the Muslim world. The source and structure of this narrative appear increasingly tied to a broader project of political Islam, under the leadership of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

The Altaf Shah Connection: Terror and Propaganda

Ruwa Shah’s father, Altaf Ahmad Shah, was no ordinary man. He was a key operative in Kashmir’s separatist ecosystem and is currently facing charges in India related to terror financing. India’s National Investigation Agency (NIA) registered a case in 2017 implicating him in illegally raising funds, including through hawala channels, to fuel street violence, destroy schools, and provoke unrest in the Kashmir Valley. His actions, far from the realm of peaceful protest, allegedly contributed to organized violence and efforts to destabilize the region.

Thus, Ruwa Shah’s presence in Turkey and her article in its media cannot be viewed in isolation. It must be seen in conjunction with the growing pattern of Turkish platforms becoming hubs for Pakistani-backed and separatist-driven disinformation campaigns.

A New Axis: Ankara and Islamabad’s Media Alliance

Under President Erdogan’s rule, Turkey has undergone a dramatic transformation—from a relatively secular, pro-Western democracy to a country increasingly under the sway of Islamist populism. Central to this transformation has been Erdogan’s use of media as a strategic weapon—both domestically and internationally.

Analysts have raised concerns that Erdogan’s government has gone beyond domestic control of press freedom and has now adopted a deliberate strategy of international ideological export. Turkish state-run media outlets like Anadolu Agency and TRT, which once hired Western journalists, are now seeing an influx of Pakistani nationals with strong ideological leanings.

Currently, nearly half of the copy-editing staff in Anadolu Agency comprises Pakistani nationals. Many of these journalists have known affiliations with hardline ideologies, and some have shown clear sympathies with separatist movements in South Asia. Turkish media, particularly these two flagship outlets, are now actively providing platforms to voices that echo the narratives of Islamabad and anti-India actors.

ISI’s Invisible Hand?

Foreign policy observers argue that the placement of Pakistani journalists in Turkish media is not merely a reflection of Ankara-Islamabad camaraderie—it may very well be an orchestrated move by Pakistan’s intelligence agency, the ISI. The intent: to amplify Pakistani geopolitical interests, challenge Indian narratives, and use Turkish soft power as a megaphone for radical Islam.

This not only strengthens Pakistan’s foothold in Turkey’s strategic calculations but also aligns with Erdogan’s broader ambitions to lead the Muslim Ummah. It explains why separatists from Kashmir, like Ruwa Shah, are finding Turkish media an inviting space to propagate their agenda.

Erosion of Sufi Pluralism in Turkey

One of the most tragic consequences of this media radicalization is the cultural loss within Turkey itself. Historically rooted in Sufi traditions, Turkish Islam was celebrated for its pluralism and syncretism. However, with the increasing dominance of Pakistani-Deobandi interpretations of Islam—promoted by the new wave of Pakistani journalists and clerics—there is growing concern about an erosion of Turkey’s spiritual heritage.

This ideological shift is being fueled not only through newsrooms but also through Turkey’s expanding religious institutions. The Diyanet, Turkey’s powerful Directorate of Religious Affairs, has witnessed exponential growth in both influence and budget. It is actively promoting a curriculum increasingly aligned with political Islam.

One such example is Erdogan’s controversial move in 2020 to convert Heybeliada Sanatorium—originally a hospital on one of Istanbul’s Princes’ Islands—into a religious school under Diyanet’s control. This follows the pattern of converting key historical monuments like Hagia Sophia and Kariye Church into mosques, symbolic of Erdogan’s Islamization campaign.

Observers worry that Turkey’s religious education sector is now being weaponized to raise generations of youth loyal to a singular, rigid ideological framework—one that is uncritical, conformist, and detached from Turkey’s once-rich theological diversity.

Radicalization of the Marginalized

Erdogan’s strategy doesn’t target the elite. Instead, his focus is on Turkey’s marginalized and underprivileged communities. For academically weaker students who are unable to get into mainstream education systems, religious schools are increasingly becoming the only option. Many of these schools promote a curriculum that serves political interests rather than religious or moral development.

In the long term, this has the potential to create an entire generation susceptible to radical ideologies and blind allegiance to Erdogan’s leadership. The role of imported media ideologues—especially Pakistani journalists—in this radicalization project cannot be underestimated.

A Caution for Turkish Society

Ruwa Shah’s article may have been a drop in the ocean, but it is emblematic of a larger, more dangerous tide. Turkish media, under Erdogan, is being transformed into a global hub for political Islam. It is actively collaborating with Pakistan’s ideological machinery, offering space to separatists and radicals, while undermining secular, moderate narratives.

The Turkish people—once custodians of a rich, pluralistic Islamic tradition—must now reckon with the possibility that their society is being reengineered. If unchecked, the radicalization of Turkish media and religious institutions could lead to long-term domestic instability and international isolation.

As for the rest of the world, particularly nations grappling with terrorism and separatism, the emerging Ankara-Islamabad axis of ideological influence poses a new frontier in the battle against extremism. What appears on the editorial page may just be a soft echo of a harder, strategic plan being executed in real time.

In a video message widely shared on social media, Shaykh Rahmani raised the critical question: “What is the Islamic status of the neighboring country, Pakistan? And given the current situation there, can it truly be said that an Islamic government or Islamic system is functioning?”

He argued that both India and Pakistan operate under similar democratic structures and that Pakistan’s creation in 1947 was driven more by political ambition than by Islamic principles. “Pakistan was not founded on Islamic ideals,” he said. “Those behind the partition were primarily motivated by worldly interests — positions, power, and authority.”

Shaykh Rahmani referenced the position of Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, a key figure in India’s independence movement and an influential Islamic thinker, who had strongly opposed the partition of British India.

“Maulana Azad clearly stated that India was our homeland — where we were born and where we would die. That vision remains significant even today,” Rahmani noted, adding that for many Indian Muslims, India continues to be a safer and more stable environment than Pakistan.

Highlighting the deteriorating security situation in Pakistan, he expressed concern over the prevalence of extremist violence.

“We are witnessing a troubling frequency of murders — of children, women, the elderly, and religious scholars. The ideology behind many of these acts is similar to that of the historical Kharijites — a radical sect known for their extremism and violence,” he stated.

Shaykh Rahmani also condemned the use of religious institutions in Pakistan for political purposes. “Mosques and madrasas, which should be centers of learning and spiritual guidance, are being used as shields and platforms for political demands. This is not the way of the Muslim Ummah — it is the path of the Kharijites.”

Calling for a more informed and principled approach, he cautioned Muslims around the world not to be swayed by emotional or romanticized views of Pakistan. “Some may think Pakistan is beneficial for Islam or for Muslims. But history tells us otherwise — scholars have been assassinated, and sacred institutions misused.”

He concluded with a prayer: “Such policies can never be classified as Islamic. They mirror the practices of the Kharijites. May God protect us from all forms of evil and chaos.”

Shaykh Rahmani’s remarks are expected to stir conversation among Muslim communities across South Asia and beyond, especially as debates continue about statehood, religious authority, and the role of faith in governance.

Islamist terrorism did not rise in a vacuum. It was engineered, cultivated, and weaponized—first by colonial powers, then by Cold War strategists, and now by regional regimes.

In the aftermath of European colonialism, the world has seen many upheavals—but few have been as globally disruptive and persistently violent as the rise of Islamist terrorism. It is one of the darkest legacies of the colonial era, ironically shaped and sharpened by the very empires it now claims to oppose. Today, it stands as a transnational threat, claiming lives from Karachi to Kuala Lumpur, and from Tel Aviv to London.

The data tells a haunting story. Since 1979—the year of the Shia Islamic Revolution in Iran—there have been more than 49,000 Islamist terror attacks worldwide, resulting in over 220,000 deaths. But what is often overlooked is the fact that 89.5% of these attacks occurred in Muslim-majority countries, with the vast majority of victims being Muslims themselves. Even the holiest of sites, such as Mecca, have not been spared. The carnage is indiscriminate, and the ideology behind it is far more complex than simplistic narratives often suggest.

Islamist groups would have the world believe that their violence is a response to foreign occupation or injustice. Yet the overwhelming facts betray that narrative. Most Islamist terrorism does not take place in occupied territories but in nations where Muslims are the majority. This disproportionality demands a deeper, more historically rooted investigation into how this ideology emerged and why it continues to thrive.

The Colonial Incubator of Political Islam

To understand the modern-day menace of Islamist terrorism, we must go back to the time of European imperialism—particularly British colonial rule. Colonizers, determined to suppress nationalist uprisings and maintain control over their dominions, employed a classic divide-and-rule strategy. In this context, religious identity became a tool of political manipulation.

Extremist elements were co-opted and even fostered by colonial administrators to counter secular, anti-colonial movements. It is no coincidence that key Islamist movements—such as the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Jamaat-e-Islami in India—were born during this time. These Islamist movements did not rise organically from within their societies as spiritual or theological reforms; rather, they were often sponsored or tolerated by colonial regimes as buffers against resistance.

Figures like Sir Syed Ahmed, who promoted the divisive “two-nation theory” in British India, and Sir Agha Khan, who founded the Muslim League, played pivotal roles in politicizing Islam. Their ideas—encouraged, amplified, or at least facilitated by the British—ultimately contributed to the partition of India and laid the groundwork for modern political Islam. This ideological framework would later become fertile ground for the rise of violent jihadist movements.

From West Africa to Southeast Asia, similar patterns emerged: colonial authorities empowering Islamist elements for short-term control, only to leave behind long-term instability.

Cold War Complicity and the Rise of Armed Jihad

The Cold War did not reverse this legacy—it accelerated it. In Afghanistan, for example, the United States and its allies, including Pakistan, armed and trained Islamist fighters to push back against Soviet expansion. The result was the creation of well-equipped and ideologically radicalized groups such as the Taliban and Al-Qaeda.

What was once political Islam turned into militant jihadism. The West had, once again, fed the very forces it would later call its enemies.

The Twin Threats: State-Sponsored and Non-State Jihadism

In the modern context, Islamist terrorism operates under two primary umbrellas: non-state actors and state-sponsored networks.

Non-state actors are dispersed, often embedded within societies, waiting for ideological or operational cues. Their roots trace back to political Islamist thought developed during colonialism, shaped further by theological radicalism and geopolitical grievances. Their dream of a global caliphate transcends borders, and they are often motivated not by poverty or lack of opportunity—but by ideology. No amount of economic aid or deradicalization programs alone can address this; it requires ideological confrontation led by credible scholars and religious authorities.

On the other hand, state-sponsored Islamist terrorism is far more organized—and dangerous. Here, nation-states actively fund, shelter, or enable terrorist proxies to project power or destabilize rivals. Iran, since the 1979 revolution, stands out as the most prolific actor. From supporting Hezbollah in Lebanon to Hamas in Gaza, and from Houthi insurgents in Yemen to Shia militias in Iraq and Syria, Iran’s fingerprints are evident across some of the most devastating conflicts in the Middle East.

Turkey and Qatar, despite being close Western allies, also play significant roles. Both states have financially supported Islamist groups—including the Muslim Brotherhood and others—across North Africa and the Levant. Media outlets like TRT (Turkey) and Al Jazeera (Qatar) have become soft-power instruments, often amplifying Islamist narratives under the guise of journalistic independence.

Then there is Pakistan—arguably the most paradoxical player. Created as a result of colonial partition, Pakistan has, since its inception, used Islamist militancy as statecraft. Its long-standing doctrine of “Bleed India with a Thousand Cuts” has led to decades of cross-border terrorism. From Kashmir to Punjab, from Naxalite regions to the Northeast, India has faced relentless proxy warfare orchestrated from across the border.

Unlike Iran, Pakistan has largely escaped Western censure or sanctions, remaining a “major non-NATO ally” and benefiting from strategic utility. Whether during the Afghan jihad against the Soviets or the post-9/11 conflict, Pakistan’s duplicity has been tolerated, if not rewarded.

A recent example was the attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, where 26 innocent civilians were killed by Pakistan-sponsored Islamist militants. It is part of a consistent pattern—not an anomaly.

Solutions Begin with Truth and Courage

Combating Islamist terrorism requires more than drones, security checkpoints, or surveillance. It demands truth—about its origins, its enablers, and its geopolitical underpinnings.

The first step must involve addressing state actors that perpetuate terrorism under ideological or strategic pretexts. In this context, resolving the “Pakistan-Iran-Turkey” triad is essential. And one of the most viable ways to do this is by supporting the self-determination of oppressed peoples within those states.

The liberation of Balochistan (currently divided between Pakistan and Iran) and Kurdistan (spanning parts of Iran, Turkey, Iraq, and Syria) is not just a moral imperative—it could be a strategic game-changer. Empowering these freedom movements would strike at the very heart of the Islamist-terror ecosystem and weaken the foundations upon which these regimes rely.

Time for a Reckoning—and a Response

India, Israel, and democratic states across the world must come together, not just to condemn terrorism, but to confront its root causes and supporters. The West, too, has an opportunity—a responsibility—to correct the historical wrongs of colonialism. This means no longer appeasing authoritarian allies who feed Islamist extremism for their own ends.

Islamist terrorism did not rise in a vacuum. It was engineered, cultivated, and weaponized—first by colonial powers, then by Cold War strategists, and now by regional regimes. To dismantle it, we must stop treating the symptoms and start confronting the disease.

And that means standing with those who fight for freedom—not those who hide behind religion to suppress it.

Many supporters may retreat underground, potentially leading to the radicalization of splinter factions if their political aspirations are completely suppressed.

Jordan’s political landscape witnessed a seismic shift this week as the government formally banned all activities of the dissolved Muslim Brotherhood, a move experts describe as a turning point in the kingdom’s modern history.

Interior Minister Mazen Al-Faraya announced the decision on Wednesday, shortly after the shocking revelation of a foiled plot involving the manufacture of rockets by individuals allegedly linked to the Brotherhood. The disclosure, which sent tremors through Jordan’s security establishment, has fundamentally reframed the national conversation around the role of political Islam within the state.

Arab News senior journalist Hani Hazaimeh captured the gravity of the moment, stating, “Jordan’s decision to formally ban all activities of the dissolved Muslim Brotherhood marks a watershed moment in the kingdom’s modern political history — a decision that could reverberate well beyond its borders.”

Brotherhood’s Complicated Legacy

Since Jordan’s establishment in 1946, the Muslim Brotherhood has been a paradoxical player in the country’s political life — both an ally and a source of friction for the Hashemite monarchy. Unlike in many neighboring countries where the Brotherhood was outlawed, Jordan allowed the group to operate relatively freely, believing it could serve as a moderating influence against leftist ideologies like communism and Arab nationalism.

Over decades, the Brotherhood grew deep roots in Jordanian society. They ran charitable organizations, contested parliamentary elections, and provided social services where the state often fell short. Their advocacy for Palestinian rights, particularly during crises like the ongoing Gaza war, further bolstered their popularity, especially among middle and lower-class Jordanians disillusioned by economic hardship and political stagnation.

However, as Hani Hazaimeh pointed out, the relationship between the Brotherhood and the state was always a delicate balancing act.

“What once served as a pressure valve for societal grievances has, in the eyes of the state, transformed into a potential vector for subversion,” he explained.

The discovery of a clandestine rocket manufacturing operation — allegedly orchestrated by the son of a senior Brotherhood figure — shattered the Brotherhood’s carefully cultivated image of peaceful activism. Despite the group’s leadership quickly disavowing any involvement and reaffirming their commitment to nonviolence, the damage to their credibility was severe and immediate.

A Sweeping Crackdown

The government’s response was swift and uncompromising. Authorities moved to shutter Brotherhood-affiliated offices, freeze financial assets, and prosecute individuals associated with the now-outlawed group. It was made clear that political entities perceived to harbor or inspire threats to national cohesion would no longer be tolerated.

Domestically, this crackdown has reignited a fierce debate. Supporters argue that national stability must come first, especially in a region plagued by insurgencies and ideological extremism. Critics, however, caution against conflating legitimate political dissent with criminal subversion.

For many Jordanians, particularly those who once saw the Brotherhood as a voice for the marginalized, the move is bittersweet. The Brotherhood’s female-led platforms, community initiatives, and calls for social justice once filled a void left by the country’s traditional political parties. Yet the exposure of violent plots irreversibly damaged the group’s moral standing, leaving many questioning whether it can ever reclaim its former legitimacy.

A Broader Geopolitical Signal

Beyond Jordan’s borders, the decision carries significant geopolitical implications. It signals a clear alignment with regional powers such as Egypt and the UAE, both of which have taken hardline stances against Islamist movements.

“Regionally, Jordan’s decision represents more than a domestic policy shift — it is a calculated geopolitical signal,” Hazaimeh emphasized.

At a time when the Middle East is gripped by instability — with the Gaza conflict escalating tensions and Iran-backed militias gaining ground in Syria, Iraq, and Lebanon — Jordan’s leadership is acutely aware of the risks of internal radicalization. The foiled rocket plot was not merely a domestic incident; it was seen as a direct challenge to the state’s monopoly on force and a potential harbinger of wider unrest.

Challenges Ahead

The path forward for Jordan is fraught with uncertainty. Simply outlawing the Brotherhood will not erase its ideological influence overnight. Many supporters may retreat underground, potentially leading to the radicalization of splinter factions if their political aspirations are completely suppressed.

The Jordanian government thus faces a delicate balancing act. It must safeguard national security while still allowing space for legitimate political expression. If all avenues for peaceful dissent are closed off, the risk of pushing frustrated citizens toward extremism only grows.

At the same time, this moment offers a rare opportunity. With the Brotherhood sidelined, there is room for new, reform-minded political movements to emerge — ones that advocate transparency, inclusivity, and genuine democratic engagement.

However, as Hazaimeh rightly cautions, true progress requires more than just removing one set of political actors and installing another.

“The end of the Brotherhood’s formal political role could open space for new, reform-minded movements that advocate transparency, inclusivity and constructive engagement. But such developments will only materialize if the state demonstrates a genuine commitment to democratic renewal, economic equity and responsive governance.”

Without addressing the deep-seated socioeconomic grievances that allowed the Brotherhood to flourish in the first place, Jordan risks repeating the cycle of political repression and radicalization.

A Defining Moment

In essence, Jordan’s decision to ban the Muslim Brotherhood is about more than just one organization. It reflects a broader recalibration of the kingdom’s political identity in an increasingly polarized region. It’s a bold statement about the kind of future Jordan wants — one rooted in stability, security, and closer alignment with regional powers that prioritize order over ideological diversity.

Yet, the ultimate success of this approach will depend on what comes next. Will Jordan open up new pathways for citizen engagement and reform, or will it double down on security-first governance at the expense of political freedoms?

As Hani Hazaimeh poignantly summed up, “Whether this move ushers in a new era of stability or sows the seeds of future discord will depend largely on what the government does next — not just in terms of repression or security, but in its ability to offer a compelling, inclusive vision for the nation’s future.”

Only time will tell whether this bold decision will mark the beginning of a new, more stable era for Jordan — or merely a temporary lull in the kingdom’s ongoing political evolution.

The Brotherhood’s double game — peaceful reformist by day, radical ideologue by night — is not new, but it’s growing bolder.

By all measures, the recent arrest of 16 individuals linked to the Muslim Brotherhood in Jordan marks a seismic shift in how the group operates — and how seriously it must be treated. The foiled plot wasn’t a back-alley operation by a fringe group.

According to Dalia Al-Aqidi, executive director at the American Center for Counter Extremism, it was a coordinated network with training and funding allegedly sourced from Lebanon. The arrests unearthed a drone manufacturing site and even a rocket ready for launch — right inside the Kingdom.

This wasn’t just a domestic security scare. It’s a flashing red light to the international community: the Muslim Brotherhood is neither dormant nor defeated. It is evolving.

For Jordan, a country that has maintained a delicate balance of internal stability despite a turbulent neighborhood, this plot comes with chilling implications. Even more so because it arrives just months after the Brotherhood’s political arm, the Islamic Action Front, gained traction in the 2024 parliamentary elections. That coincidence is not lost on observers.

Al-Aqidi is blunt in her assessment: the same organization that runs for office with talk of reform is preparing to launch attacks behind the scenes.

The Brotherhood’s double game — peaceful reformist by day, radical ideologue by night — is not new, but it’s growing bolder. It has long perfected the art of political shapeshifting: invoking religion to gain street-level credibility in the Middle East, while adopting the language of democracy and civil rights in the West.

But as Al-Aqidi argues, this is not benign activism. The Brotherhood’s true objective remains unchanged since its founding: a society governed by Islamist Shariah law. The only difference is that, increasingly, it chooses ballots and influence operations over bombs — until, of course, it doesn’t. Violence remains on the table, as Jordan’s recent near-miss shows.

In the U.S., Canada, and Europe, Brotherhood-linked organizations have taken root in civil society — as charities, student groups, lobbying arms and community voices.

According to Al-Aqidi, these groups silence moderate Muslim voices and weaponize terms like “Islamophobia” to deflect scrutiny. It’s not just rhetoric, she insists — it’s a strategy, one that undermines the foundations of liberal democracy from within.

Even more alarming is what she describes as a “convenience coalition” forming between radical Islamists and far-left activists. Their ideologies may differ wildly, but their shared animosity toward the West — particularly America and Israel — provides a common enemy and fertile ground for coordinated disruption.

Yet, despite mounting evidence and repeated warnings from Middle Eastern allies, the West — particularly the United States — has hesitated to act. Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE have designated the Muslim Brotherhood as a terrorist organization. Washington has not.

Al-Aqidi argues this is due to “willful ignorance and political convenience” — a misplaced hope that the Brotherhood is a “moderate” firewall against more extreme terror groups.

But history says otherwise. The ideological DNA of terror groups like Hamas, Al-Qaeda, and Daesh can be traced directly back to the Muslim Brotherhood. It is not a firewall — it is the foundation.

The time for diplomatic hedging is over, Al-Aqidi urges. She calls on the U.S. government to designate the Muslim Brotherhood as a foreign terrorist organization and to investigate the network of nonprofits and advocacy groups that operate as its front. The aim, she says, is not to stifle religion but to confront a radical ideology masquerading as reform.

Jordan’s discovery was not just a domestic police action — it was a siren call for the global community. The Muslim Brotherhood remains highly organized, deeply ideological, and dangerously underestimated.

The West cannot afford to keep its eyes shut. Inaction isn’t just apathy — it’s surrender.

S M Faiyaz Hossain

Cultural and religious minorities in Bangladesh are also suffering due to rising extremism.

The New York Times published a report titled “As Bangladesh Reinvents Itself, Islamist Hard-Liners See an Opening,” detailing the rise of Islamist extremism in Bangladesh during political changes. The report discusses how religious extremists are taking advantage after the removal of former leader Sheikh Hasina. 

It highlights incidents like bans on women’s soccer and public harassment of women who do not follow conservative dress codes. 

There have been rallies demanding the death penalty for actions seen as blasphemy. The report notes that some Islamist groups, including previously banned ones, are pushing for stricter religious rules in the government. 

Officials are working on a new constitution that might change secularism to pluralism. This shift is causing concern over weakening democratic values and increasing risks for women and minorities.

Bangladesh used to be known for its secular roots and cultural diversity, but in recent years, extremist ideas have been resurfacing. Although this isn’t an entirely new foundation, it has become more noticeable and concerning since 5^th of August 2024.

Extremists are attacking secular bloggers and targeting women’s sports and cultural events. Their goal is to impose strict religious views or a political caliphate on a society that values diversity. This rise in extremist actions is worrying because it threatens freedoms, especially those of women and minorities, and poses a danger to the country’s democratic setup. 

A particularly troubling aspect is the attack on women’s rights to participate in public life. For example, some women’s football matches had to be cancelled because of threats from extremist groups. This shows how these groups are trying to take over spaces that were once empowering for women. Sports provide young women with opportunities to move up socially and gain international recognition, but these are now under threat. 

Such actions not only limit their dreams but also send a negative message about the shrinking space for women in public and professional life. It reflects a broader aim to suppress women’s rights under the guise of religious morality, harming the progress made in gender equality over the years.

Lifting bans on Islamist political parties like Jamat-e-Islami and freeing extremists like Mufti Jashimuddin Rahmani known as the Anwar Al Awlaki of Bangladesh, give these groups more confidence. While the interim government might claim these actions are part of a broader peace strategy, they risk legitimizing extremist ideas and giving them a platform to grow. 

Inadequate systems to monitor released extremists make the situation worse, providing spaces for radical elements to regroup and plan for something like the meticulously planned October 7^th Attack orchestrated by Hamas. 

Meanwhile, a banned organization like Notorious Hizbut Tahrir openly propagated their influence and participation in Anti-Quota protest which for them was a tactical Jihad to oust the exiled Government and get a step ahead for their future plan of implementing a Caliphate. 

This political leniency by Interim Government weakens public trust in governance and helps extremist narratives spread, they have made few arrests while the extremist leaders are free and that questions if arresting the activists while ignoring the leadership is a soft ploy to leverage a tactical narrative. 

Cultural and religious minorities in Bangladesh are also suffering due to rising extremism. Attacks on Sufi shrines and other minority religious sites highlight an increase in intolerance. These aren’t isolated events but part of a plan to make all of Bangladeshi society conform to strict ideological rules. 

Targeting cultural figures, authors, and artists underlines this trend, aiming to silence voices of dissent and alternative perspectives. Such actions threaten Bangladesh’s rich culture, traditionally a mix of diverse influences. We must also consider socio-economic factors driving this phenomenon.

Poverty, unemployment, and lack of access to education create conditions where extremist views can take root. Young people, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, often join these movements seeking a sense of identity, purpose, or community. 

Extremist groups exploit these vulnerabilities using targeted propaganda and recruitment strategies, often through social media. Addressing these foundational issues requires comprehensive policies that promote inclusive development and foster social unity. 

Political Researcher and former Pentagon Official Michael Rubin, in a US Congressional briefing highlighted the growing concern of Radicalization in Bangladesh and opinionated an article ‘Is Bangladesh the Next Afghanistan’. 

Rubin is worried about how Noble Laurate Yunus is leading because it seems less tolerant than people expected. This is particularly true about how the government handles freedom of the press and different political views. 

Yunus is famous around the world for his work in microfinance, which helps poor people with small loans. He took charge of the interim government after Sheikh Hasina was removed from power. 

At first, many welcomed Yunus because they thought he would be different from Hasina, who was seen as too controlling. But Rubin thinks Yunus’s government is letting strict Islamist groups have too much power and is stopping people from speaking freely, which could hurt democracy. 

Rubin is especially concerned about the freedom of the press under Yunus’s rule. Some journalists, like Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed, have reportedly been brutally jailed on vague and ambiguous murder charges, raising fears about free speech in Bangladesh.

Over 1,000 journalists seen as “too secular” have reportedly been fired, showing a lack of tolerance for different opinions. Rubin also mentions problems faced by Julfikar Ali Manik, who reports on Islamist groups, and former Member of Parliament Fazle Karim Chowdhury, who works to protect minority rights. 

These issues suggest that Yunus’s temporary government might not be supporting the diversity and human rights that are important for democracy.

Increasingly, people are showing public support for Hamas, which is a growing concern. This support is visible in rallies and in the way some individuals dress to symbolize the group. 

Bangladesh, for many years, has had a clear stance against Israel. It has consistently supported Palestine through diplomatic efforts and has officially recognized only the Fatah-led government based in the West Bank. However, there is a noticeable rise in grassroots support for Hamas, especially in the wake of the ongoing Israel-Gaza conflict. 

In this situation, extremists have spoken out against American interests in Bangladesh. Recently, some Islamists verbally called for aggressive protests in the U.S. Embassy in Dhaka. Along with Anti-India rhetoric, hatred for Trump’s America and Israel are seen. 

These tensions are fuelled by foreign policy support for Israel. The Interim Government was supposed to carry forward a Peaceful transition towards Democratic Election, while the reality looks, they have political interests to gain in the name of ‘reform’. 

Serving the interests, they are currently capitalizing on Islamists for majority support while being harsh and harsher on Secularists, Awami league activists, minorities and anyone associated with the 1971 Liberation war as tweeted by Lemkin Institute of Genocidal Prevention with multiple red flags. 

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.