IT is hard to imagine how someone changes the course of their life — more so when that person is a top jihadist leader on the world’s most-wanted terrorist lists and admits that taking the militant path had been a mistake. That he follows up this ostensible change of heart by working to reintegrate former militants into society comes across as practically bizarre.

This is not a tale from war-torn Syria, where militant leaders are rethinking their roles, nor is it from East Asia, where many former fighters embraced ideological transformations. This story unfolds in Pakistan and centres on a man who joined the jihad against the Soviets at a young age, eventually becoming the supreme commander of the largest militant group in Kashmir.

According to accounts in jihadi circles, Zakiur Rehman Lakhvi, the supreme commander of the banned Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), underwent a period of ‘rethinking’ during his confinement following his arrest in connection with the November 2008 Mumbai attacks. While the US and India remained sceptical about the seriousness of his detention, and their media frequently highlighted reports of him receiving royal treatment during his incarceration, including access to various facilities and regular interactions with family and friends, prolonged separation from the jihadist fields and camps is said to have offered Lakhvi and some colleagues an opportunity to reflect on the evolving global and political landscape and ongoing discussions about jihad and terrorism within militant circles. At the time, groups like the Pakistani Taliban, Al Qaeda, and the militant Islamic State group had emerged as significant sources of inspiration for jihadists, prompting debates about ideology and strategy within these networks.

Though surprising, the transformation of militants in prison is not a unique phenomenon. Similar instances have occurred in Egypt, where Al Jihad leaders renounced violence, and even within Al Qaeda, where one of its ideologues, Dr Fadl, engaged in a significant debate with Ayman al-Zawahiri, criticising the indiscriminate use of violence as a means for change. Likewise, Jemaah Islamiyah militants, led by Nasir Abbas, underwent a similar process while in Jakarta jail.

The transformation of militants in prison is not a unique phenomenon.

Deradicalisation initiatives in prisons have also gained popularity in Europe and Arab countries, particularly in Saudi Arabia. Despite ongoing debates about their success rates, these programmes have led to the ideological transformation of several militants. Pakistan adopted a similar approach, establishing deradicalisation camps in Swat and other parts of KP to address extremism among detained militants.

Zakiur Rehman Lakhvi’s case stands out on several counts. He fought in Afghanistan and Indian-held Kashmir as a ‘legitimate proxy’, influenced by the ideas of holy war and the Salafi interpretation of jihad. Unlike many Pakistani militants who became disillusioned with state-led jihad and joined groups like Al Qaeda, TTP, or later IS, Lakhvi did not turn against the state and maintained the allegiance of his cadre to his organisation. This persisted even during his arrest in connection with the Mumbai attacks, his subsequent release by Pakistani courts, and later, his re-arrest on terror financing charges.

Pakistan has come a long way in loosening its reliance on militant proxies, a policy that inflicted severe human losses, damaged the social fabric of society, and caused significant political, strategic, and diplomatic setbacks to the country. Intense international pressure, including from friendly countries like China, and the Financial Action Task Force, compelled state institutions to reassess this approach.

During this transitional phase, many militants from groups, including LeT, became disillusioned and joined organisations such as IS and Al Qaeda. In response, the state began experimenting with efforts to mainstream militant groups. The banned Jamaatud Dawa, the parent organisation of LeT, attempted to integrate into mainstream politics. However, several factors hindered its success, mainly its militant credentials, lack of political vision, and its Salafi ideology, which is not widely popular in Pakistan, where the Hanafi school dominates, followed by the Shia school of thought. As a result, JuD struggled to create significant political traction eventually becoming little more than a political proxy for state institutions.

Lakhvi was apparently sceptical about the organisation’s political project, initiating a separate course to create job opportunities for his cadre and engaging in discussions on renouncing violence. It is interesting that JuD, led by Hafiz Saeed, chose the other course and continued exploiting the tendencies of violence. This was dichotomous in that one side of the group was apparently trying to become part of mainstream politics, and the other side would not abandon its mantra about fighting in Kashmir. The reason was that the leadership was afraid that it would lose ground if it abandoned the jihad policy and the funds it collected in the name of jihad in Kashmir. Hafiz Saeed, along with his family members, had a strong grip on the organisation and its resources.

Going by jihadi accounts, Lakhvi, one of the group’s founders, has been sidelined, and a campaign against him has been launched. One interesting argument in this campaign is that he has been converted to what is being referred to as Mohammed bin Salman’s version of Islam. Within the Salafi school of thought, a significant discussion is ongoing regarding the direction they should take after the substantial political and ideological shifts in Saudi Arabia.

Mohammed bin Salman does not enjoy a favourable image among Pakistan’s Salafists. However, they cannot openly voice their concerns because of their financial dependence on Saudi Arabia and the educational scholarships offered by Saudi universities, which remain critical lifelines. Additionally, the Pakistani state restricts criticism of the Saudi royal family due to its own financial reliance on Saudi support. This debate is also alive within JuD groups, making it increasingly difficult for their leadership to maintain loyalty to the Saudis while continuing their jihadist politics.

Although Hafiz and Lakhvi’s factions have recently reconciled, allowing Lakhvi to demonstrate some of his influence in Kashmir and Gilgit-Baltistan, internal frictions are far from resolved. These tensions are expected to persist for the foreseeable future.

The writer is a security analyst.

Published in Dawn, December 29th, 2024