From “political Alawism” to “Sunni fascism”: The term when it is taken out of context

The term “Sunni fascism” has become a trending topic in recent months, particularly amidst the eruption of sectarian conflict in Syria following the fall of the Assad regime. This term has been attributed to the writer Maurice Ayek in two articles, the most recent being “The Syrian Civil War in its Second Phase” [1], published in Al-Jumhuriya newspaper. Ayek follows the approach of Hamid Abdel-Samad in his renowned book “Islamic Fascism,” which has been translated into several languages. [2] This widespread adoption of a term that theoretically carries a transcendent cultural connotation is not unprecedented in the Arab world, especially given the expansion of media in recent decades. This leads us to question whether the term imposed itself due to the issue under study and analysis, or whether the issue was reshaped to fit the term. In this paper, I will attempt to analyze the term within its intersection with the authoritarian and epistemological structures that produce and reproduce it. Within this context, I will rely on an analysis of Maurice Ayek’s work as a case study, offering a model for the use of terminology that attempts to construct a reality outside of what is actually real.

Subordinating Terminology

When Dr. Sadiq Jalal al-Azm coined the term “political Alawism” in 2013, it caused a major upheaval in the Syrian and regional landscape. Amid the sectarian media war raging in and around Syria, this term was met with celebratory reception, both by media outlets opposed to Assad, which adopted the narrative of an “Alawite regime,” and by pro-Assad media, which embraced the narrative that “this is not a popular revolution, but a sectarian rebellion.” Even some Sunni Islamist elites, both political and religious, in Syria and abroad, readily adopted the term, conveniently forgetting their long-standing animosity towards Dr. al-Azm as a symbol of Arab secularism and rationalism. In any case, we are not here to discuss this term, which has been criticized by many, including this writer.

After Ahmed al-Sharaa and the leaders of the “Deterring Aggression” campaign seized power in Syria, the term “political Sunnism” emerged, drawing a parallel with al-Azm’s “political Alawism.” Its use expanded in debates surrounding the clear sectarian structure of the new power structure. Like “political Sunnism,” “political Alawism” has become a malleable term serving culturally elitist interpretations and populist use in sectarian debates.

Here, we discuss the term “Sunni fascism” because it carries more negative and unjust connotations than others. This isn’t because Ayq was the first to use the term, but because “Sunni fascism” was coined within the context and with the same implications as the broader term “Islamic fascism.”

The term “Islamic fascism” is believed to have first appeared in the 1990s, although some trace it back to the Young Egypt Party, which emerged in Egypt in 1933, modeled on the Italian fascist movement, and which combined Islam with Egyptian nationalism. The Oxford American Dictionary defines Islamic fascism as follows: “A term equating certain modern Islamic movements with early 20th-century European fascist movements.” [3]

However, Hamed Abdel-Samad took the term out of its academic confines and contributed to its wider dissemination through his book “Islamic Fascism” (Der Islamische Faschismus), which gained widespread popularity due to the heated debates surrounding Islam and terrorism, Islam and modernity, and the growing phenomenon of Islamophobia[4], which is becoming increasingly dangerous globally. Abdel-Samad’s book faced considerable criticism in Germany and Europe, mostly focused on its reliance on generalization and essentialism. Essentialism, in sociology, refers to reducing a group of people to a fixed essence or core that explains their behavior, as if it were incapable of multiplicity or change. Similarly, Abdel-Samad reduced Islam to the label of fascism using a selective and subjective process.

In practice, the discourse surrounding “Sunni fascism” attempts to reduce the discourse surrounding “Islamic fascism” to a sectarian approach, but within almost the same methodology. Its importance and danger increase within the context of the Syrian crisis, which has taken on a sectarian and nationalist guise, even though its core is a conflict between internal and external political forces.

The Dilemma of the Connection Between Terminology and Stereotyping

In social psychology, stereotyping is defined as a fixed and overly generalized belief about a particular group or category of people. Through stereotyping, we infer that a person possesses a wide range of characteristics and abilities, both positive and negative, which we assume are shared by all members of that group.

One advantage of stereotyping is that it enables us to respond quickly to situations, as we may have had similar experiences before. However, stereotyping also has disadvantages, including causing us to overlook differences between individuals. Consequently, we may think about people in ways that are inaccurate, based on preconceived notions. Stereotyping is a primary means of simplifying our social world because it reduces the cognitive cost—the amount of mental processing (thinking) we need to do when meeting a new person or group.

Furthermore, stereotyping leads to social categorization in all its dimensions, and thus is one of the causes of preconceived biases (the “us” mentality versus the “them” mentality), which leads to the formation of internal and external groups based on their position within the group. Although social categorization is a natural process, perhaps one of the oldest evolutionary human behaviors, it becomes dangerous when it takes on a negative character, leading to the marginalization or antagonism of others. Recent research indicates that stereotyping tends to be more negative and harsh when societies face major economic and social crises. Large crises consume significant cognitive and emotional resources, and reducing this cognitive cost by resorting to negative stereotyping of others becomes a more widespread behavior.

The dilemma of terminology—stereotyping—lies in the fact that a term in a social and political context does not necessarily produce stereotyping, and even if it does, it is not necessarily negative. Furthermore, the methodology of stereotyping does not require the existence of a term. Hence the difficulty in analyzing, evaluating, and balancing the scientific necessity of using or coining a term against the risks of negative stereotyping, and the cart-and-horse dilemma.

For example, the term “anti-Semitism” emerged as a necessity to protect Jews from persecution and also to provide them with moral compensation. However, this term quickly expanded and became an unfair generalization serving geopolitical conflict. For example, it was used as a tool in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict to spread the narrative that Arabs and Muslims are inherently anti-Semitic, thus reinforcing a negative stereotype of these two groups. Its use even extended within Arab states in political power struggles.

Returning to Ayaq’s article, it is very difficult to conclude without drawing a pattern that includes Sunni Muslims, or at least Syrian Arab Sunnis. This pattern is extremely negative, as it associates fascism with Arab Sunni Islam.

It seems that the writer initially tried to avoid generalization and began by discussing jihadist Islam, whether Muslim Brotherhood or Salafist. He wrote an explanatory statement saying: “Sunni fascism appears as a small current within the body of political Islam, even though it has steadily expanded over long periods. It is also a much smaller current in relation to the Arab Sunni community itself.” But he then returns to assert that a fascist mindset is dominant in Sunni Arab societies: “Overthrowing al-Julani’s authority and dismantling the fascist mindset within Sunni Arab societies. This task seems highly unlikely. Outsiders cannot accomplish it, and there don’t appear to be any nuclei of forces within Sunni Arab societies capable of achieving this.”

Ayaq’s approach doesn’t allow the reader to make this subtle distinction, as he stated in the first half of his article. Instead, it leads the reader, however cautious, to generalize, not only about Sunni Arabs in Syria, but also about Sunni Arabs in Iraq, and indeed, the majority of Sunni Arabs. Ultimately, the entire context of the article reveals the preceding explanation as a cosmetic, apologetic statement, contradicted by its content.

The term “Sunni fascism,” as a term, or as an article or book, does not necessarily lead to generalization and stereotyping. However, the existence of an international and regional context based on geopolitical conflicts that encourages and benefits from sectarian tensions means that this context interacts with the term, which inherently carries generalizations, and quickly transforms it into a negative stereotype.

Since the 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center in New York, the world has been living under the pressure of the terms “Islamic terrorism” and “the war on terror.” Similarly, the Middle East has been living under the pressure of a sectarian war between Sunnis and Shiites, a conflict that has been continuously fueled by the media since Khomeini’s takeover of the Iranian Revolution in the late 1970s, and which has often spilled over into armed conflict on Iraqi, Syrian, Yemeni, and Lebanese soil.

Therefore, all the international, regional, and local circumstances necessitate a fundamental question: Is there truly a scientific, analytical, or philosophical necessity that justifies the use of the terms “Islamic fascism” or “Sunni fascism” when studying religious and sectarian fanaticism and extremism, including Sunni extremism?

The Interplay Between Knowledge and Power

All knowledge production inherently carries within it a desire to control meaning and direct collective consciousness. Although some philosophers, such as Michel Foucault, have linked knowledge to the production of power—not as its antithesis, but as one of its facets—historical experiences, particularly in Syria at this juncture, reveal a more complex reality. While knowledge is sometimes born from the womb of power, it is also frequently born as its antithesis. When decision-making circles become closed and truth is confiscated in the name of “stability” or “identity,” producing knowledge divorced from reality and truth, it provokes the emergence of critical knowledge as an act of resistance, not as a tool of control. In this context, power is not limited to the power of a single state or a group of similar states, but also encompasses the outcomes of geopolitical conflict between the powers that govern the world’s nations.

In this sense, the tension between knowledge and power in the Syrian context reflects a broader tension between understanding and self-interest, between language as a tool of interpretation and language as a weapon of mobilization. For example, the term “political Alawism,” coined by Sadiq Jalal al-Azm in 2013, emerged. It wasn’t a mere repetition of the regime’s rhetoric, but rather an attempt to deconstruct it. However, within the realm of challenge, he fell into the trap of generating a term that served a distorted understanding of reality. He was swept along, at least partially, by the populist wave of interpreting complex phenomena, a wave that favors easily understood explanations for its crises and deflects blame from itself to others. Thus, he embraced the notion that the Assad regime was an Alawite regime, and that Alawites ruled the country.

Between these two extremes lies the need for an independent epistemological discourse that doesn’t view terminology as ideological weapons or ends in itself, but rather as tools for understanding the complex formation of socio-political phenomena, such as the problem of violence and sectarianism in societies exhausted by power and its transformations, as in the Syrian case.

From this perspective, terms like “Sunni fascism” or “Islamic fascism” cannot be treated as mere academic or linguistic descriptors. Rather, they must be viewed as keys to redefining the boundaries of discourse: who is classified as “moderate and modern,” and who is classified as “fascist.”

In this sense, the use of terminology during times of crisis becomes part of a redistribution of symbolic legitimacy within society, where language itself transforms into a tool for political and cultural sorting. It grants legitimacy to some and withdraws it from others, creating what might be termed a “ruling linguistic class”—that is, the group that possesses the right to define phenomena and determine their nature.

Therefore, studying the spread of such terms transcends its immediate analytical dimension, posing a deeper question: who has the right to name things in a world torn apart by identities? Can a researcher or writer employ a critical concept without becoming—intentionally or unintentionally—a party in the very battle for symbolic hegemony? And does the subject under investigation necessitate the creation of a new “term” that existing descriptions and labels cannot adequately express?

The Issue of Sunni Fascism

This is not intended to defend any religious or political movement, but rather to dismantle the methodological flaw in applying the term “fascist” to a broad religious group. This flaw leads to counterproductive results when knowledge and its analytical purpose—seeking a solution—are confused with a preconceived or passive stance of generalization.

The Flawed Introduction

Ayaq begins his article by establishing a premise upon which he builds his subsequent argument. In the introduction, he asserts that what has transpired in Syria since 2011 was a civil war, ultimately won by the al-Nusra Front. Consequently, he positions the “rise of Sunni fascism and the complete disintegration of Syrian nationalism and its aftermath”—which he seeks to prove—as a subsequent phase of the civil war.

Within this context, I will not delve into the debate of whether it was a “popular revolution” or a “civil war.”[i] However, let us establish a primary fact, agreed upon by the majority both inside and outside Syria: that what occurred in Syria was a “revolution” or a “popular uprising” against a corrupt, dictatorial, and intelligence-run regime that brought society to the brink of explosion.[ii] Another fact, proven by events, is that the war in Syria was not solely between internal Syrian forces. It also involved numerous external international powers, some officially (Iran, Russia, the United States, Israel, and Turkey) and others unofficially through tens of thousands of fighters who joined either the Assad regime under the banner of Shiite Islamism or the Sunni Islamist militias. Even if we adopt the term “civil war” to describe part of the Syrian crisis, it is incorrect to use it as a generalization that describes the entire Syrian situation. This distinction is crucial because the conclusions drawn by the author, and many others, are based on flawed premises.

Imposing Fascism on Sunnism

The author does not allow us to make a genuine distinction between jihadist Islam, Salafist Islam, and Sunni Islam. He answers the question, “Do the characteristics mentioned above allow us to consider jihadist Islam a fascist political current?” by shifting from jihadist Islam to his view of Sunni Islam as a collective identity (and as the title of the paper). Within the text, Salafist Islam is also presented as synonymous with Sunni Islam, despite the clear differences between them.

This conflation of jihadist Islam with Sunni Islam is difficult to tolerate, especially in analyses that attempt to reach a dangerous and sweeping conclusion such as “Sunni fascism” or “Islamic fascism.”

  • The Term “Jihadist Islam”

Jihadist Islam is a modern term with a fluid meaning, varying according to the traditional schools of thought prevalent among Muslims. Jihad is not exclusively a Sunni doctrine; rather, it is a doctrine encompassed by many Islamic schools of thought, regardless of their differences on the specific legal rulings regarding jihad. Therefore, we will not find in the Islamic legal tradition or contemporary Islamic legal scholarship a clear distinction for a group, school of thought, or movement called “Jihadist Islam.”

In practical terms, a brief overview of Islamic jihadist movements reveals that a segment of Salafism—though not all Salafism—has been engaged in jihad since the time of Ibn Abd al-Wahhab. However, we also find that many groups that led the resistance against Western colonialism in North Africa combined Islamic jihad with resistance against the occupier, such as the revolution of Omar al-Mukhtar in Libya and Abd al-Qadir al-Jaza’iri in Algeria. In modern times, the largest and most influential jihadist movement in the world was the Taliban, which adhered to the Hanafi-Ash’ari school of thought, a school far removed from Salafism.

Similarly, the doctrine of jihad was, and remains, fundamental to the military campaigns of the Iranian regime, whose armed decisions are controlled by the Supreme Leader. In Syria, the invocation of the doctrine of jihad in the path of God was not limited to Sunni factions but also included Shiite factions that fought alongside the Assad regime.

The Muslim Brotherhood and Jihad

Even if we are politically opposed to the Muslim Brotherhood movement, the reality of the movement, its history, and its theories confirm that it does not adopt jihad as a means to seize power. Even in Syria, when the Brotherhood’s fighting vanguard took up arms against Hafez al-Assad in the late 1970s, its primary slogan was the overthrow of the “Alawite” regime, and it was not an explicit call for jihad comparable to any of the jihadist factions that have emerged in Syria over the past fourteen years. Furthermore, the presented analysis fails to clearly distinguish between jihadist Islam and the Muslim Brotherhood.

Fascism is based on elevating the “state” and assimilating the new individual into the group.

Regardless of the conflation of these currents, the author does not provide any real, factual evidence to demonstrate the fascism of Sunni Islam, or even the fascism of jihadist Islam in Syria at this stage. Despite his extensive discussion of Salafism, which he argues adheres to detailed rulings that are irrelevant to the lives of Muslims, presents a comprehensive vision of Islam, and asserts that it sees “Islam as governing everything without exception.”

What the author stated is true regarding the belief that Islam governs everything without exception, not only in Salafism but in the majority of Islamic schools of thought. However, this presents a stark contradiction with fascism, one of whose most important foundations is the elevation of the state to the point of sanctification [iii]Statism.

The author, in his definition of fascism, did not mention its systematic reliance on dissolving the individual within the collective, perhaps inadvertently. Italian fascism and German Nazism spoke openly of creating a “new man.” In Italy, they called him “L’uomo nuovo fascista” (the new fascist man), and in Germany, “Der neue Mensch” (the new man).

But it seems he intended to illustrate this point through a brief account of Salafist Islam’s adoption of a policy of extensive intervention in every detail of life. This is also true, but it also applies to the majority of Islamic schools of thought, and indeed to most religions. However, this is subject to the form of political power in Muslim countries. It has become clear that even the most rigid Wahhabi Salafist Islam has readily shifted, under the ruler’s command, to backtrack on these rulings, as recently occurred in Saudi Arabia. In reality, those who seek to create a new kind of human being—a true Muslim—are the Muslim Brotherhood, which adopts what it calls “the education of Muslims,” ​​and the Salafist movement, which lacks this clear vision for creating a new Muslim but sees religious education as a fundamental means, especially following the path of Muhammad Nasir al-Din al-Albani, Ibn Baz, and al-Fawzan. This latter movement teaches its students that distinction lies in distinguishing authentic hadiths from weak ones and in the ability to refute opposing views. As for jihadist Islam, whether Salafist or otherwise, it seeks to build the mujahid-fighter, not the human being or the new Muslim.

On a broader level, regarding Islam and the commonalities among its schools of thought, and those shared with most religions, these religions naturally strive to “guide” people to become righteous believers. However, this is entirely different from the fascist vision of creating a new human being.

Is it acceptable to equate the concept of a collective Islamic identity with the idea of ​​national or ethnic purity in historical fascism?

While the article is justified in suggesting that fascism may not always be based on biological race, describing “purity” as “doctrinal” overlooks the inherent organic and exclusionary nature of fascism. This nature makes belonging to the nation something that cannot be acquired through faith alone, but rather is linked to a “natural” identity, as Roger Griffin points out.[iv] He argues that fascism presupposes the nation as an organic community, not merely a doctrinal aggregation.

However, there are disagreements among academics regarding whether fascism transcends nationalities and races, particularly with fascisms more recent than Italian fascism. Some scholars, including Griffin, have accepted that fascism can accommodate other nationalities,[v] but this does not mean that fascism constructs an open society that any believer (or adherent) can join.

It is essential to distinguish here between the possibility of describing fascism as accepting other nationalities, and the author’s assertion that Sunni Islamic “ideology” is totalitarian, thus placing it within the realm of fascism on the basis that fascism may accept national pluralism and rely on intellectual and ideological purity. This fundamentally contradicts all definitions of fascism in political science. Even if we accept the author’s right to broaden the prevailing definitions to include Sunni Islam’s view of accepting national diversity, this transforms fascism into a tolerant ideology that accepts the other only on the condition of faith, which is far removed from fascism. Sunni Islam desires and works to incorporate others, and theoretically claims that “there is no difference between Arab and non-Arab, nor between white and black, except in piety.”

In his attempt to justify shifting fascism from a national or ethnic framework to a religious one, the author employs the slogan of the “Umayyad dynasty,” amplifying it under the term “myth of origin.” However, it is methodologically unsound to present this hypothesis without a comprehensive analysis, given its pivotal importance within the analysis.

To begin with, even the Salafist Islamic stance on the Umayyads does not go beyond defending them as legitimate caliphs of the Muslims and maintaining that Mu’awiya ibn Abi Sufyan was among the Companions of the Prophet, who should not be criticized or attacked, but rather be revered.

More importantly, the majority of Ash’ari Sunnis hold a position that ranges from remaining silent regarding the rise of the Umayyads under Mu’awiya ibn Abi Sufyan to criticizing Mu’awiya’s mistakes without cursing him. However, the Ash’aris do not consider the Umayyads to be a “legendary figure” in any way. This brings us back to one of the fundamental gaps in this type of analysis, which fails to differentiate between Islamic currents.

The Muslim Brotherhood and Jihad

Even if we are politically opposed to the Muslim Brotherhood movement, the reality of the movement, its history, and its theories confirm that it does not adopt jihad as a means to seize power. Even in Syria, when the Brotherhood’s fighting vanguard took up arms against Hafez al-Assad in the late 1970s, its primary slogan was the overthrow of the “Alawite” regime, and it was not an explicit call for jihad comparable to any of the jihadist factions that have emerged in Syria over the past fourteen years. Furthermore, the presented analysis fails to clearly distinguish between jihadist Islam and the Muslim Brotherhood.

Fascism is based on elevating the “state” and assimilating the new individual into the group.

Regardless of the conflation of these currents, the author does not provide any real, factual evidence to demonstrate the fascism of Sunni Islam, or even the fascism of jihadist Islam in Syria at this stage. Despite his extensive discussion of Salafism, which he argues adherents to detailed rulings that are relevant to the lives of Muslims, presents a comprehensive vision of Islam, and asserts that it sees “Islam as governing everything without exception.”

What the author stated is true regarding the belief that Islam governs everything without exception, not only in Salafism but in the majority of Islamic schools of thought. However, this presents a stark contradiction with fascism, one of whose most important foundations is the elevation of the state to the point of sanctification [iii]Statism.

The author, in his definition of fascism, did not mention its systematic reliance on dissolving the individual within the collective, perhaps inadvertently. Italian fascism and German Nazism spoke openly of creating a “new man.” In Italy, they called him “L’uomo nuovo fascista” (the new fascist man), and in Germany, “Der neue Mensch” (the new man).

But it seems he intended to illustrate this point through a brief account of Salafist Islam’s adoption of a policy of extensive intervention in every detail of life. This is also true, but it also applies to the majority of Islamic schools of thought, and indeed to most religions. However, this is subject to the form of political power in Muslim countries. It has become clear that even the most rigid Wahhabi Salafist Islam has readily shifted, under the ruler’s command, to backtrack on these rulings, as recently occurred in Saudi Arabia. In reality, those who seek to create a new kind of human being—a true Muslim—are the Muslim Brotherhood, which adopts what it calls “the education of Muslims,” and the Salafist movement, which lacks this clear vision for creating a new Muslim but sees religious education as a fundamental means, especially following the path of Muhammad Nasir al-Din al-Albani, Ibn Baz, and al-Fawzan. This latter movement teaches its students that distinction lies in distinguishing authentic hadiths from weak ones and in the ability to refute opposing views. As for jihadist Islam, whether Salafist or otherwise, it seeks to build the mujahid-fighter, not the human being or the new Muslim.

On a broader level, regarding Islam and the commonalities among its schools of thought, and those shared with most religions, these religions naturally strive to “guide” people to become righteous believers. However, this is entirely different from the fascist vision of creating a new human being.

Is it acceptable to equate the concept of a collective Islamic identity with the idea of ​​national or ethnic purity in historical fascism?

While the article is justified in suggesting that fascism may not always be based on biological race, describing “purity” as “doctrinal” overlooks the inherent organic and exclusionary nature of fascism. This nature makes belonging to the nation something that cannot be acquired through faith alone, but rather is linked to a “natural” identity, as Roger Griffin points out.[iv] He argues that fascism presupposes the nation as an organic community, not merely a doctrinal aggregation.

However, there are disagreements among academics regarding whether fascism transcends nationalities and races, particularly with fascisms more recent than Italian fascism. Some scholars, including Griffin, have accepted that fascism can accommodate other nationalities,[v] but this does not mean that fascism constructs an open society that any believer (or adherent) can join.

It is essential to distinguish here between the possibility of describing fascism as accepting other nationalities, and the author’s assertion that Sunni Islamic “ideology” is totalitarian, thus placing it within the realm of fascism on the basis that fascism may accept national pluralism and rely on intellectual and ideological purity. This fundamentally contradicts all definitions of fascism in political science. Even if we accept the author’s right to broaden the prevailing definitions to include Sunni Islam’s view of accepting national dive

Are the other characteristics of fascism truly clear?

Whether we consider the author’s article or even Hamed Abdel-Samad’s argument, we find that the most important aspect agreed upon by researchers in defining fascism is mass mobilization under charismatic leadership. This is what Ayaq confirmed in the definition he adopted, but he considers it self-evident, merely citing the mobilization that occurred in Syria during the massacres in the coastal region and Suwaida as evidence. This is a fundamental methodological error. Demonstrating mass mobilization based on practices resembling fascism by selecting a single instance and generalizing it is nothing more than cherry-picking to support the idea. The situation in Syria after the fall of Assad and the rise of al-Sharaa remains a unique and highly complex period, characterized by a chaotic interplay of:

  • A provisional government with all its inherent problems;
  • The simmering sectarian and nationalist incitement of the past 14 years;
  • Conflicting emotions ranging from joy at the fall of the Assad regime to fear of what lies ahead;
  • Extreme poverty;
  • The proliferation of weapons;
  • The ongoing and widespread chaos in Syria;
  • And a resurgence of fundamentalist sectarian, nationalist, regional, and political sentiments.

Is fascism a social movement or an elitist political ideology?

In political and social studies, fascism is not a “mass phenomenon” but rather an ideological and activist system that thrives on specific conditions: defeat, humiliation, economic crises, and political vacuums. Robert Paxton, in his seminal work The Anatomy of Fascism, states explicitly: “There are no fascist societies, only fascist movements that sometimes come to power and partially subjugate society, but do not completely dissolve it into themselves.” This means that Italian (or German) society was not inherently fascist, but rather was subjected to a politically successful fascist project that mobilized broad segments of it.

Even political scientists who agree with the idea of ​​fascism’s social spread to some extent, such as Emilio Gentile[vii], who elaborated on the relationship between fascism and society, stated: “Fascism created a political religion that changed the way people thought about homeland, martyrdom, and loyalty.”[viii] Thus, even Gentile distinguishes ordinary religion from fascism, because he sees fascism as offering a new religion.

While the author relies heavily on his reading of Sunni Arab society in Syria and Iraq, he asserts that Arab societies possess a “fascist temperament,” presenting this as an obstacle to any solution. I will now set aside his sweeping pronouncements on Sunni Arab society in Syria and Iraq and compare his assessment of Sunni Arab society with the nature of fascism according to the commonly accepted definitions in political science. We will find that his judgment, in reality, contradicts any academically established view of fascism.

When the goal becomes the term, not the knowledge.

The warning against the indiscriminate use of the term fascism doesn’t come from outside the field, but from one of the foremost scholars of fascism, Roger Greiff, who points out that the protection of democracy must not fall into this trap. I find it useful to quote him verbatim: “On the other hand, if the context is a serious and open discussion about identifying and assessing the threats to democracy, in an effort to move toward a deeper understanding, then fascism is only useful if it retains its classificatory value as a term for a specific and distinct category of the illiberal right. Currently, there is so much inaccurate thinking and semantic slippage between the right and the radical, extreme, or radical right, racism, ultraconservatism, populism, religious fundamentalism, and far-right populism that these terms are generalized rather than enlightened. Moreover, the misuse of fascism as a concept is most evident in the popular press and blogs, where illiberal leaders as diverse as Erdoğan, Putin, Trump, Orbán, Bolsonaro, Kim Jong-un, and Xi Jinping are dismissed as such.” My routine is to label them as fascists” (4).

Using the term “Sunni fascism” in the current Syrian context is a very costly analytical and social proposition. It sacrifices precision on the altar of a contrived and shocking descriptive force, and contributes to fueling the very cycle of stereotyping and identity conflict it seeks to understand.

  • Contradiction and Bias Undermine the Analysis

Within the analysis, the author states: “Sunni fascism appears as a small current within the body of political Islam, even though it has steadily expanded over long periods. It is also a much smaller current in relation to the Arab Sunni community itself. Those who are politically active within Islam are a minority, and a minority within this minority adopts this political orientation.”

The question then becomes: how can one move from a minority within a minority to applying a term that encompasses the entire community?

The article offers no answer to this question and remains within the context of the generalizations made about Muslims by the Islamophobic current. Therefore, it is not surprising to find within the same analysis sweeping generalizations that contradict the previous specification. The author repeatedly asserts throughout the article that Sunni fascism dominates Sunni Arab societies, stating, for example, “The rise of Sunni fascism and its dominance over Sunni Arab societies,” and elsewhere, “The dismantling of the fascist mentality within Sunni Arab societies,” emphasizing “the dominance of the fascist mentality over the Sunni Arab bloc.”

Furthermore, even within the context of the article, the author categorically rejects applying any analogy to his claim of “Sunni fascism” to any other sectarian or ethnic group in Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon, raising fundamental questions about the objectivity of his argument.

The Claim of the End of Syrian Nationalism and the Sectarian Interpretation of the Syrian Crisis: A Superficial Reading

As I mentioned in the introduction, the author’s premise—describing what happened in Syria as a civil war, and then titling his article “The Second Phase of the Civil War”—leads him into fallacies, some of which we analyzed in the context of critiquing the notion of Sunni or Islamic fascism. This prompts me to summarize the author’s argument regarding the end of Syrian nationalism, because the analysis remains trapped within the same methodological errors and preconceived notions, manipulating intellectual tools to serve his own agenda.

Methodological Flaw: The Claim of a Lack of Definition

The article claims that “Syrian nationalism has ended,” but it completely fails to provide a conceptual definition of nationalism, which should be the foundation of any such judgment. Does nationalism here refer to civic loyalty based on citizenship and the constitution? Or a collective feeling of social solidarity? Or a political project for building a centralized state? Without clarifying this, the claim of “end” becomes a mere impressionistic judgment lacking analytical basis, weakening the argument at its core. How can we pronounce something dead when it hasn’t even been defined?

Nationalism as a “practice of resistance,” not just affiliation.

Nationalism doesn’t end with the collapse of the state or the dominance of sub-national identities. Rather, it transforms into a daily act of resistance: clinging to a shared identity, rejecting sectarian divisions, and preserving a collective memory that transcends narrow affiliations. Even the collapse of the official public sphere (as happened in Syria) doesn’t mean the disappearance of alternative or resistant public spaces where Syrians maintain the idea of ​​”Syria” as an entity that transcends sectarianism. The reality of the current conflict, both in the media and on the ground, despite its chaos and occasional extremism, revolves around who wants to divide and destroy Syria, thus branding them as unpatriotic.

Pre-2011 Syria: Nationalism Remained Present Despite Repression

Even under the Assad regime’s repression, Syrian nationalism remained alive in forms of cultural and social resistance, from cultural salons to student movements and grassroots initiatives. This confirms that nationalism is deeper than the political system and that it is capable of surviving even in the worst circumstances.

Nationalism as a “Future Project,” Not a “Finished Past”

To claim the death of nationalism is to surrender to the current reality and ignore the possibility of its reconstruction. History shows that national identities return with force after devastating wars, such as in Rwanda, European countries after World War II and the collapse of the Soviet bloc, Vietnam, Turkey after World War I, and even in Lebanon and Iraq, where the question of the state remains unresolved, nationalism continues to be a goal pursued by all. Crises may weaken nationalism, but they also create opportunities to redefine it on more just and inclusive foundations.

Modern history, the age of nationalisms, proves that many countries and societies have redefine their nationalism, such as Germany and the European countries after World War II and the collapse of the Soviet bloc. The same thing happened in Turkey with the establishment of the Turkish Republic; indeed, even in the Arab states, with the end of the wave of ideological Arab nationalism (Nasserism and Ba’athism), and with the ongoing conflict with political Islam, the question of redefining nationalism is the biggest question facing the region. I don’t believe that such difficult questions will find their answers in just a few years.

The Real Danger: Adopting a “Post-Nationalist” Discourse

Adopting the notion of the “end of nationalism” is nothing more than an emotional, pained reaction to the depth and severity of the tragedy, but it doesn’t reach the level of objective analysis. The challenge is not to acknowledge the death of nationalism, but rather how to revive it with new concepts: a nationalism based on equal citizenship, recognition of pluralism, and transitional justice.

Moreover, the article reduces the Syrian crisis—with all its political, economic, geostrategic, and social complexities—to a superficial sectarian interpretation[1], as if Syrian history has known nothing but sectarian divisions. This type of interpretation ignores the security state’s role, structural corruption, neoliberal policies, foreign interventions, and the collapse of the social contract, presenting a distorted, ready-made picture that transforms the conflict into a “sectarian civil war,” while the reality is far more contradictory and complex.

Even more dangerous is that this simplification is often used to justify political capitulation or moral indifference toward the fate of an entire society, under the pretext that “national unity was nothing but an illusion.” But even in the darkest moments of the war, daily practices, networks of solidarity, and civic discourses, especially among youth, women, and civil society organizations, resisted this disintegration and testified that nationalism, as a political and moral possibility, was not yet dead.

Conclusion

This paper does not aim to deny the deep entanglements between the religious, the Islamic, and the sectarian in the structure of the Syrian crisis, nor to downplay the danger of the manifestations of religious, sectarian, and nationalist extremism that have fueled violence and widened the chasm of division. On the contrary, the aim is to restore the analysis to its methodological course: adopting precise concepts that do not produce collective stereotyping, and distinguishing between currents, movements, and references instead of forcing them into a single mold. The knowledge we seek here is not a linguistic weapon in identity debates, but rather a tool for deconstructing the causes of the crisis, and this is the necessary first step in searching for realistic and equitable solutions.

The primary goal, then, is neither exoneration nor denial, but rather setting studies and analyses on the right track. This right track begins with deconstructing the true causes of the crisis, not reducing them to narrow identities. This deconstruction is the first and essential step toward discovering the right solutions, which can only be built on foundations of realism, justice, and recognition of pluralism, far removed from the simplistic terminology that fuels the cycle of conflict and distances us from the possibility of reconciliation and reconstruction.

Using highly charged terms such as “Sunni fascism,” “Islamic fascism,” “political Alawism,” or “political Sunnism” is tempting in its shocking power, but it comes at a heavy analytical and social price: it weakens the distinction between phenomena and reproduces stereotypes that close the doors to compromise instead of opening them. What we need today is not to coin more labels, but to develop a more robust conceptual framework that will help us diagnose the structural flaws: the security state and its effects, the political economy of devastation, the military internationalization of Syrian territory, the media war waged on platforms large and small, and the mechanisms of stereotyping and hatred that accompany crises. Only then can language be transformed from a tool of sorting and mobilization into a means of understanding, building, and reforming—the shortest path toward a new social contract and a viable Syrian national identity.

1]  الحرب الأهلية السوريّة في طورها الثاني. عن نهاية سوريا وخيارات مستقبل «الأغيار» خارجها، موريس عايق، صحيفة الجمهورية، 22-08-2025
https://shorturl.at/1pM0C

[1]  كتاب الفاشية الإسلامية Der Islamische Faschismus، حامد عبد الصمد، صدر باللغة الألمانية عام 2014، ومترجما للعربية عام 2019.

[1]  Islamic Terror: Conscious and Unconscious Motives، Avner Falk، Bloomsbury Academic, 2008، ISBN 0313357641, 9780313357640

[1]  فيديو ” الإسلام-فوبيا والأنتي-إسلام والتطرف الإسلامي”، علاء الخطيب، 03/09/2024
https://youtu.be/KgpzESEfh2g

[1]  هل هي ثورة أم حرب أهلية في سورية؟، فيديو، علاء الخطيب
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9UoEQQHLoQ

[1]  سوريا حتى العام 2011، ما بين الابن وأبيه، علاء الخطيب، مركز حرمون للأبحاث، 29 كانون الأول/ديسمبر 2022
https://www.infosalam.com/syria/syria-studies/syria_to_2011

[1]  Statism سيطرة الدولة، أو الدولانية، وتدل في العلوم السياسية على المبدأ القائل بأن السلطة السياسية للدولة شرعية إلى حد ما. وقد يشمل ذلك السياسات الاقتصادية والاجتماعية، وخاصةً فيما يتعلق بالضرائب ووسائل الإنتاج.

[1]  Roger David Griffin بروفسور التاريخ الحديث والتنظير السياسي في جامعة أكسفورد ببريطانيا. متخصص في دراسة الفاشية.
https://shorturl.at/zQ7ya

[1]  Fascism: historical phenomenon and political concept، Roger Griffin & Olof Bortz،  25/10/2022

[1]  Robert Owen Paxton  بروفسور امريكي متخصص بالعلوم السياسية والتاريخية. متخصص بالدراسات حول الفاشية وأوروبا خلال الحرب العالمية الثانية.  

تناول العلاقة بين الفاشية والدين في كتابه: تشريح الفاشية The Anatomy of Fascism، isbn: 1-4000-4094-9

[1]  Emilio Gentile، بروفسور تاريخ إيطالي، يُعتبر من أهم الباحثين الإيطاليين في الفاشية.

[1]  Fascistese: The Religious Dimensions of Political Language in Fascist، Oxford University Press, 2011
https://shorturl.at/TCh7m

[1]  أخطاء التفسير الطائفي.. مقدمة في الطائفية، علاء الخطيب، مركز حرمون للدراسات، 3 حزيران/يونيو ,2022
https://www.infosalam.com/fundamentalism-backwardness/studies/sectarian_explaination

Political Bureau
Independent Researchers
Alaa El-Din Al-Khatib

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