RadicalizationThe new terrorists and the roots they share with gangs and drug lords

By Mark Edberg and Hina Shaikh

Published 25 February 2015

The recent attacks in Paris and Copenhagen are the latest incarnations of a new type of terrorism. Decentralized and homegrown, it is hard to understand. In many cases, these young perpetrators have been drawn to extremist ideologies without personal histories of religious commitment, militancy, or even social activism. How do they — in a relatively short period of time — get to the point where they are willing to commit such violent acts? The context in which these perpetrators live and develop contributes to these outsized acts of violence in at least two significant ways. The first has to do with the nature of excluded communities. Cut off by many boundaries, these communities become like islands disconnected from the society around them. These boundaries are socio-economic and cultural and are often made deeper by racism and discrimination. The second has to do with young persons’ search for identity and status. Such a search in an excluded community is vulnerable to the influence of people who use violence to demonstrate their importance. If that violence is connected with a sense of payback and revenge against those forces that exclude, then the situation is even more volatile.

The recent attacks in Paris and Copenhagen are the latest incarnations of a new type of terrorism. Decentralized and homegrown, it is hard to understand.

Last week, the Obama administration convened a three-day summit to focus on the reasons young people become involved in this kind of violence. In many cases, these young perpetrators have been drawn to extremist ideologies without personal histories of religious commitment, militancy, or even social activism.

How do they — in a relatively short period of time — get to the point where they are willing to commit such violent acts?

Our research and program experience at the George Washington University’s Center for Social Well-Being and Development, and the Avance Center for the Advancement of Immigrant/Refugee Health may offer some guidance.

Not isolated actions
It is useful to think about such acts as taking place within a broader context.

The Kouachi brothers, for instance, reportedly felt excluded and ultimately just “wanted to be French.” They lived in the 19th arrondissement in Paris, a neighborhood long disconnected from the French mainstream, with high levels of unemployment, particularly for young adults.

In Copenhagen, 22-year old Omar Abdel Hamid el-Hussein was said to be seething with anger about exclusion from Danish society. He was radicalized in prison and swore allegiance to ISIS only moments before his shooting rampage.

How does this kind of context contribute to these outsized acts of violence? Our work suggests that it does so in at least two significant ways.

The nature of exclusion
The first has to do with the nature of excluded communities. Cut off by many boundaries, they become like islands disconnected from the society around them. These boundaries are socio-economic and cultural and are often made deeper by racism and discrimination.

But within these islands, people still strive to make a living, to belong, and to attain status. Because the possibilities are limited, the ways of achieving these basic goals may divert from conventional paths. The difference between legal and illegal becomes blurred and the definition of risk less clear.

Social structures like gangs and family-like crime networks often develop to provide opportunities for income, protection and social bonds. Even so, competition for the finite number of opportunities is tough. The script for success may well include violence — and that is before we even consider religious or ideological motives.