Talking and walking – UK mentors steer young people away from radicalisation

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/feb/05/uk-mentors-steer-youth-away-from-radicalisation

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For those given to hyperbole, Sulaimaan Samuel’s job could be seen as being on the frontline of a clash of civilisations. In fact, the everyday reality of his work usually involves more prosaic things: a walk in the park, perhaps, to chat about getting a job or going to university.

Samuel is a mentor for Channel, the Home Office’s main anti-radicalisation programme, designed to engage with anyone who it is feared is being drawn to radical opinion of any sort. In practice, the bulk of Channel’s efforts involve younger people tempted by Islamist views, with many recent cases linked to radicalisation over Syria.

Samuel, who works around the country, says he normally begins by discussing someone’s background with their case worker before meeting with them to agree – the scheme is voluntary – to be their mentor. A programme of informal but intensive talks, once a week for up to two hours, follows.

“We can meet anywhere,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be in a formal setting. With some of the young people I’ve been mentoring, I’ve realised that perhaps the environment they’re used to isn’t the most conducive to the type of attitude I want to bring out of them.”

During the summer he took one young man for long walks in parks and elsewhere, “trying to let him see the rest of the community as they live their lives, and let him see that life is wider and vaster than his house, his street, a few friends, a computer he may spend hours on”.

Those referred to Channel should be seen not as potential terrorists but vulnerable youngsters who often live isolated lives in difficult personal circumstances, Samuel said. “Once upon a time people viewed extremism as 100% criminal, with the people involved criminals – basically, the police chasing bad guys. There are those people out there, trying to recruit people into this way of thinking, but there are also victims, ordinary citizens who get caught up in the online PR hype, and were swayed by the arguments.

“These are people who have been seduced by the messaging. It’s very strong, very passionate. It appears to come from a place of concern. And for these people there are no other voices – it’s them against us and we must stick together.”

Generally, he said, the solution can be to widen the range of information on offer. Samuel recounts the recent case of a young man who said he wanted to give money to fighters in Syria, but turned out to be motivated by images of the country’s suffering. He ended up donating instead to humanitarian charities.

While the police are necessarily involved with Channel, the actual process is designed to be as community-based as possible, gently nudging people back towards mainstream society rather than threatening them with retribution.

Those people referred to the scheme are often “confused young men who are slightly vulnerable”, according to another mentor, a staff member from one of the 50 or so community groups tasked by the Home Office to work on Channel.

“It’s a case of inoculating them,” said the mentor, who asked to not be identified. “Sometimes it’s a case of discussing employment or other ways of contributing constructively in society.

“It needs a strong emotional and pastoral skill, literally winning over their hearts and minds, showing them that love and compassion are better than hatred and revenge.”

Since the programme was set up in 2006, a total of 3,934 people have been referred, about 20% of whom are deemed by panels to require further action. Channel has picked up significant momentum over its lifespan: only 80 people were referred in the programme’s first two years, compared with 1,281 this year.

In a sphere awash with one-word titles and interlinked programmes, Channel is an element of wider efforts by the government to monitor extremist views called Prevent, which in turn fits inside Contest, the Home Office’s overall counter-terrorism strategy.

In another piece of jargon popular with those involved, Channel’s work so far has mainly taken place in the “pre-crime space”. This is where someone appears to be swayed by extremist opinion or thought – which can be far-right politics or other fringe views, as well as Islamist militancy – but is not deemed immediately at risk of criminal behaviour.

Referrals can come from a variety of sources, mainly through the police but also through teachers or social workers. Cases are then discussed by a wide-ranging panel set up by the local authority and chaired by the police to decide whether any action is needed and if so, what. Often the chosen option is a patient process of mentoring.

The anonymous mentor, who has worked in the scheme since 2011, described a similar process of subtle guidance: “It’s about communicating to someone that you could end up becoming a terrorist if you continue down this route.”

The process ends once the panel is satisfied that the person is no longer a risk, an outcome the anonymous mentor says can be assisted by that person growing up.

“What we find is that often between the ages of 14 and 18 the person has come across peer pressure or an extremist group, but then they’ve realised they need to get on to university or get a job. Once they’ve shown they’ve committed to that then it’s deemed they are no longer a risk. In other cases the NHS will take over if they’ve got deeper emotional or psychological issues that need to be addressed.”

Guillaume Poupard, France’s digital security chief

Less than a year ago Guillaume Poupard became, to all intents and purposes, the French state’s go-to man for digital security as head of the National Agency for Information Systems Security (ANSSI). Created in 2009, ANSSI is the umbrella protection organisation for state institutions and “operators of vital importance”, although the exact list is classified. Its staff of 400 computer engineers, trainers and investigators go to ministries and strategic companies to give courses on how to secure mobile communications or investigate hacking attempts.

To take the job as head of such an agency is a logical choice for Guillaume Poupard, a man passionate about “mathematics as applied to concrete problems”, with a doctorate in cryptography. His credo is to always look ahead. “In the event of a major crisis, you have to have a plan and it is this that allows you to react quickly and limit the consequences,” he said.

That need for speed was demonstrated one weekend in 2011 when his predecessor at ANSSI had to take “urgent security measures” at the finance ministry after determined and well-organised hackers succeeded, discreetly, in penetrating the ministry’s computer system. The perpetrators have still not been identified, but links to Beijing have been suggested.

Poupard, a supporter of what he calls “computer cleanliness”, says security is everyone’s business – from the head of state right down to members of the public. “If a minister or a CEO doesn’t follow the very basic security rules, the whole organisation is threatened,” he said.

Yet he does not believe there is a one-size-fits-all approach to digital security. “We cannot advise a a publicly listed company and a small business in the same way,” he said.

Damien Leloup (Le Monde)

Sławomir Dębski, promoting Polish-Russian dialogue

Every year, a survey is conducted by the Centre for Polish-Russian Dialogue and Understanding to find out what Poles and Russians think about each other and current international events. This year, the survey’s authors faced a problem: Ukraine. The Russians initially wanted to ask about attitude towards the “fascist junta in Ukraine”, while the Poles sought opinions on “pro-European changes in Ukraine”. The final, considerably more neutral compromise asked respondents to evaluate the “changes in Ukraine”.

Still, according to Sławomir Dębski, director of the Centre for Polish-Russian Dialogue and Understanding, Russian sociologists involved with the project remained unhappy. “They insisted that their beef was not about politics, but methodology,” said Dębski. “They argued that when conducting such a survey, it is necessary to use a term understandable to the respondents and that the label ‘fascist junta’ made things clear to Russians since that is how Russian media describe the current government in Ukraine.”

The centre, which in Poland is headed by Dębski and in Russia by Piotr Stiegnij, a diplomat, is the result of a short-lived warming of relations between the two countries in 2009 and 2010. But things have gone downhill since then. Asked how it was possible to conduct a dialogue in the current environment, Dębski replied simply: “It is difficult.”

Poland has been one of the most outspoken critics of Moscow in the conflict over eastern Ukraine. Polish authorities have openly referred to Russia’s actions as “state terrorism”. In this climate, bilateral dialogue could be seen as an extravagance, and the centre has been criticised from both sides. What was supposed to be a dialogue now resembles a monologue of two.

“We feel like an island. Some Polish politicians and journalists, especially those on the right, describe us as Russian agents, while some of our Russian partners treat us as Polish spies,” said Dębski.

But he remains upbeat and determined. “As long as there is still at least one Russian interested in dialogue, we will discuss,” he said. For him, the fact that a bilateral institution encouraging Russians and Poles to develop interest in each other still exists, and receives funding, is a valuable achievement in itself.

Paweł Wroński (Gazeta Wyborcza)

Laarbi Mateeis, Muslim leader in Ceuta

When Laarbi Mateeis, 51, leader of the proselytising Muslim sect Tablighi Jamaat in Ceuta, the Spanish enclave in north Africa, uses the language of “fighting jihad”, he has to tread carefully. “I got jeered at in a cafe in [the predominantly Muslim area of] El Príncipe because I was talking about peace and speaking out against jihad,” he said.

“If people have just seen a TV report on a massacre in Palestine, it’s not easy to convince them. But I spoke up and I’ll carry on speaking up. Any Muslim who engages in jihad without consulting those with the necessary wisdom becomes a criminal without even realising it.”

While Tablighi Jamaat is based on a strict interpretation of Islam that preaches peace, it is viewed with suspicion and mistrust by intelligence services across Europe. The Spanish intelligence agency, the National Intelligence Centre (CNI), classifies it as a sect. But Mateeis’s arguments aren’t always well received by his fellow Muslims, either.

Ceuta, which has around 85,000 inhabitants, has seen a dozen of its young people travel to Syria in search of certain death. Mateeis blames false clerics, Arab TV stations and social networks. “Going to some faraway country to die for jihad is stupid,” he says. “The rolling news programmes on the Arab channels are planting the seeds of radicalisation: if all you see are gunshots, bombs and wars, you’re heart is going to fill up with anger. Nowadays, with everyone watching the war from their own bedroom, people are getting radicalised quickly. I’ve spent years highlighting the dangers of social networks.”

But Mateeis says his message does sometimes get through. “We’ve managed to stop some people travelling to Syria,” he says. “I tell them that they can practise jihad without setting foot outside their homes: they just need to help their parents and their families. That’s the true sacrifice; everything else is just a big lie. Islamic State and al-Qaida are just using Islam.”

Although Tablighi Jamaat – which controls 32 mosques – is the dominant voice in Ceuta’s Muslim community, Mateeis is under no illusions about the scale of the struggle he faces. “I know better than to expect a red carpet and bouquets of roses,” he says. “Some people will embrace my messages and some won’t.”

José María Irujo (El Pais)

Jürgen Vanselow, transport police chief, Munich

Security threats at the main station of the southern Germany city of Munich can come in all shapes and sizes – from standard terror threats to drunken visitors at the annual Oktoberfest. But Jürgen Vanselow, 56, who heads the federal police force based at the station, takes it all in his stride.

“Estimates say that around 350,000 people pass through the main Munich railway station every day, rising to half a million during the Oktoberfest. Of course, following the Paris terrorist attacks, big railway stations are considered high-risk points, but I feel completely safe. It’s not like you can block off a railway station and bring it to a standstill. We ensure the highest possible degree of security, and the remaining risk is just something we have to live with,” he said.

Vanselow is leads a force of 300 officers. “At the most important times, we’ll be patrolling both in uniform and undercover, and we can call on reinforcements from throughout Germany, including surveillance units, helicopters, and guard dogs,” he said. “At one point, a team from our anti-terror unit was called in to deal with a man carrying a firearm. The operation went without a hitch.”

Vanselow admits his operation plans have been altered because of Paris but declines to go into detail. For the last three weeks his officers have also had to contend with anti-Islamisation Bagida and Mügida demonstrations every Monday – local offshoots of the headline-catching Pegida in Dresden. And now the football season is starting up again. “We’re going to be busy for the next few months dealing with drunken, rowdy fans and keeping rival groups apart,” said Vanselow.

There are 55 surveillance cameras installed in the railway station aimed at helping the officers investigate violent incidents. Occasionally, he says, a suitcase is left standing by someone who has gone to the shops. “We have a staggered security plan for such situations: first an explosives expert takes a look – if he thinks it’s suspicious, an explosives sniffer dog is sent in,” said Vanselow. “If it finds anything, a bomb disposal expert comes with a mobile x-ray device and a robot.”

He has been in charge since 2008, and in that time there has never been a bomb – although the police did have to shut down the station once in 2013. “We x-rayed a suitcase and saw metal parts, cables, batteries, things like that,” said Vanselow. “We hit the case with a water cannon. The metal parts turned out to be jewellery, and the lady in question had packed a few chargers and hair-dryers in there as well.”

Susi Wimmer (Süddeutsche Zeitung)