‘We’re in a generational fight…on a par with the struggle against communism or Nazism’

When I flew to Brussels to cover the links between the Belgian capital and the Paris attacks, I should have known Nasser Weddady would be here too.

We're both based in Boston but he's been working on issues of youth and radicalization and terrorism for years now. It's no wonder the Europeans are turning to him for some help. As a Mauritanian-American he moves in many worlds and experiences the issues from a number of different angles. We met up at his hotel and then went to a friend's apartment to talk. 

I asked him how he felt after Paris.

"I feel terrible," he told me. "Confused is not the word. It's a sense of, 'where do we begin?' We've been here, we've done that. We keep seeing the same phenomenon: terrorist attacks, kids radicalized, coming out of communities and coming back and attacking their own countries, their own societies. The cycle is frustrating. It doesn’t seem to be ending. It's about time for people to realize  we’re in a generational fight. It's not a problem that’s going to go overnight or in a year or five. It’s on a par with the struggle against communism or Nazism. This is a fight for the long term."

We talked about Molenbeek, the Brussels neighborhood where some of the Paris perpetrators lived and worked, and its longstanding reputation as a base for terrorist actions dating back to before 9/11. The community held a vigil last night to send a message that in Molenbeek, they aren't all terrorists — that it's unfair to tar everyone with the same brush. I asked Weddady what he thinks the responsibility of a community like Molenbeek is.  

"That is one of the most complicated questions," he said. "Pointing a finger at the entire community is unfair and counterproductive. But if there is someone next door and I knew, I should go do something about it. And that is the conflicting feeling, going in both directions."

But he says there's no mystery to why and how people become radicalized. That's been studied ad nauseum.

"You have recruiters who prey on the sense of isolation, the anger, and frankly the ignorance, and not necessarily poverty, that’s too simplistic, and offer people a worldview that is more appealing," Weddady explains.

"In the case of ISIS, let's assume everyone has an ideological firewall that keeps us from breaking the law, makes us productive members of society, pay taxes and be productive citizens; it breaches that firewall when it finds a subject. It could be making the argument about sympathy or solidarity with fellow muslims, who are being bombed and killed in places like Syria, which on the face of it is a legitimate concern, but problem is it doesn’t stop at that. It becomes a problem when solidarity with fellow muslims means killing everyone else. And the way the radicalization works, it finds a breach and once it breaches any given point of that ideological firewall, it creates a cascade effect. You're sold on a vision, an alternative vision of a world, an ideological one. You have a purpose in life, you’re creating something bigger than your person, and that you're building a new world. It attracts people. It gives them a sense of importance and purpose and mission. It's first and foremost an ideological battle." 

Here in Brussels, there are plenty of young people who might be susceptible among the immigrant muslim population that has been here for decades. 

"The main thing to retain is that Belgian muslim communities have been affected by radicalism as much as other European muslim communities," he said. "I'm not going to use cliché of a few bad apples because there is a real problem and muslims themselves recognize that problem exists."

"There are a lot of well-assimilated muslims in Belgium and the rest of Europe," he said. "The problem is we’re facing the ones who are not assimilated."

Weddady hasn't lost hope, but he's enormously frustrated by the gap between the lessons learned and the lessons applied. 

"What is bugging me, what is really bugging me, is that in these communities I do believe there are youth willing to partner and work — who actually would like to take things in their own hands. It's really bugging me that after 15 years, governments and civil society still do not know how to do it, even though we have blueprints. We know how to engage youth. We know how to help them organize and fill the vacuum that is being taken over by islamist radicals. We know how to shut the door to the recruiters."

Weddady is hawkish on matters of security and military action, but he's all about soft power when it comes to deradicalization. That means investing in youth centers and job development, engaging young people in discussions about religion, answering their questions about Islam, and life.

"It’s not about being mushy and hugging," he says. "It's smart counterterrorism. It has to be done."

"The fundamental goal is to enlist these communities in the prevention work to stop the process of radicalization or contain those who are radicalized, or de-escalate. At the end of the day, there's no security force, with all the intelligence and eavesdropping, that can infiltrate. It's been tried and it failed!" 

Last time I saw Weddady was after the Boston Marathon bombings. He spoke about his childhood in the Middle East at an interfaith service that helped bring Bostonians together in the wake of the attacks. He says for all he's thought about radicalization and terrorism, he still can't really put himself in the shoes of the perpetrators, the Tsarnaev brothers. 

"Sometimes we risk overthinking. It's a natural human instinct, struggling to understand. But our responsiblity ultimately is to protect ourselves, to protect our communities and preserve the safety of everyone."

Weddady is sick of saying the same things over and over, but he’s got nonstop meetings here in Brussels to try to share what he’s learned and make a difference. It's not just for him anymore. He has a young daughter now. 

"I don't want my daughter to be blown up tomorrow. I need that stopped."