Abstract
In this essay, we study the emergence of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) from the theoretical perspective of the “rhizome” coined by Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari. We understand organizing in general and conflict emergence in particular through the becoming of the rhizomatic ontology of organizing. In our view, the emergence of organizing is a manifestation of a rhizomatic basis of things, seen in nomadic strategies of pursuing revolutionary aims and resisting power hegemonies. We discuss how armed resistance groups relate to time and duration, and their stark contrast to Western professional, expeditionary armies operating in a clearly defined space and time. We complement the established philosophical and organizing-theoretical approaches to being and becoming in understanding conflict emergence with the rhizomatic perspective. We conclude our essay by discussing both theoretical and practical implications for understanding and managing conflict.
Introduction
Any metaphysical thinking is onto-logy or it is nothing at all.
The meta-theoretical discussion of the foundational nature of organizations has been neglected in the past (Emirbayer, 1997). We see this as being the result of an emphasis on epistemology over ontology in science in general and organizational analysis in particular. This emphasis, for its part, is derived from a world view according to which knowledge is a representation (or a mental mirror) of the world “out there,” detached from the reflecting mind (Rorty, 1981). The logical development of such a view is the divide between ontology and epistemology in research praxis. Thus, organizations have been seen as essential entities to be understood through epistemic scrutiny, rather than existential becoming processes. Despite recent notable developments in the process philosophical understanding of organizations (Chia & Holt, 2009; Helin, Hernes, Hjorth, & Holt, 2014; Langley, Smallman, Tsoukas, & Van de Ven, 2013; MacKay & Chia, 2013; Nayak, 2008; Tsoukas & Chia, 2002), our field remains in a state of development vis-à-vis understanding the ontology of organizing. With our essay, we show and theoretically discuss the emergence of human social organizing through its “rhizomatic” ontological foundations (Deleuze & Guattari, 1980).
Methodologically, process phenomena have been successfully understood and articulated through phenomenological inquiry (Küpers, Mantere, & Statler, 2013), and ethological drawing on empirical material (Zundel, Holt, & Cornelissen, 2013), among other approaches. Our method is to present a case from the world of armed conflict; more precisely, the widely reported, constantly evolving, and thoroughly bewildering rise of the ISIL movement in the Middle East. In the light of the general “surprise” associated with its emergence on the global radar of conflict, we were caught asking ourselves, “Yet another terrorist group that came out of nowhere?” Considering the contemporary, “real-time,” and “on-demand” nature of information (Munro, 2005), this is both surprising and disturbing. Further on, we realized the need to understand the foundations of conflict emergence and the potential of the rhizomatic and process theoretical associations in this context. Our choice of method is associated with the nature of our research target in at least two senses. First, the conflict is still evolving. Hence, we concentrate on the phase of ISIL’s emergence on the global radar, which took place in 2014. Second, collecting data on-site is “challenging” to say the least—conducting ethnography or a series of in-depth interviews in Raqqa (the “capital” of the Islamic State) remains strictly off-limits. In our analysis, we rely on journalistic content, defense and security analyses, think-tank reports, and academic literature.
Echoing the demand for metaphysical reflection by Martin Heidegger (1977) presented in the epigraph, the analysis of organizations can be seen as a form of metaphysical inquiry (Chia, 1997). In other words, we cannot think of an organizational entity or the process of organizing without reflecting on what it is (a “tree,” for instance). Over the last two decades, the dominant realist view of organizations, which mainly draws on the natural scientific paradigm of knowledge creation and the Parmenidean ontology of “things,” has been challenged by an epistemological discourse that emphasizes the process of organizing (for a wide selection of work concerning process philosophy and organizations, see Helin et al., 2014). This view treats human social formations as emergent, immanent, and non-linear systems of relationships rather than static, immovable, and eternal structures. This process philosophical approach to understanding the becoming of organizations builds on the foundational works of notable process philosophers, from Heraclitus to Henri Bergson and William James. We see this as a step toward a more holistic understanding of ontology, which is more than welcome.
The Western understanding of the Orient has been challenged as problematic (Said, 1979). This is so, not least because the authors responsible for crafting the representations of the Arab world have mostly been serving various imperial interests. Since the foundational work of early explorers and adventurers (for early accounts, see Burckhardt, 1829; Wallin, 1851), and probably most notably through the publication of Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Lawrence, 1935), Arab culture, life in the Middle East, and the nature of the Islamic faith has captured the interest of Western researchers, policymakers, and wider audiences. T. E. Lawrence witnessed the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Turks in 1916-1918. Considering the nature of the conflict that took place in the deserts of the Arabian Peninsula, there are many parallels to be drawn between the historical and the contemporary, continually unfolding events associated with the invasion of Iraq, the Syrian civil war, and the rise of ISIL (Hellerstein, 2016). For instance, in military tactics “Lawrence’s visionary concept of irregular warfare was that semi-autonomous units could function not as an organization but as ‘an influence’ or as ‘an idea’ that was ubiquitous and without form drifting about ‘like a gas’” (Khdour, Harris, & Weir, 2014, p. 129). We take up this idea in our understanding of the nature of contemporary conflict and show how it reveals a rhizomatic emergence of an armed social movement.
Our essay touches on all three axioms of process philosophy outlined by Chia (1999): (a) process epistemology and becoming, (b) phenomena being interrogated through the register of otherness, and (c) the principle of immanence in the presentation of objects of knowledge. Thus, we align our approach with process research, which “ . . . focuses empirically on evolving phenomena, and [. . .] draws on theorizing that explicitly incorporates temporal progressions of activities as elements of explanation and understanding” (Langley et al., 2013, p. 1). We also associate our analysis with contemporary warfare, which is connected to how people relate to their physical and social environments, in both the military and civilian spheres of society (Munro, 2010a). In other words, contemporary conflict would not exist—as it does now—without the means and technologies of today. Moreover, we acknowledge the need to understand organizing vis-à-vis entrepreneurship and social transformation (Daskalaki, Hjorth, & Mair, 2015), as well as the need to understand the emergence of conflict and totalitarian regimes (Clegg, 2006). In the course of this essay, we present and discuss an armed resistance movement, whose end is yet to come.
The essay is structured as follows. First, we outline the rise of the Islamic State in the Middle East. Second, we present the philosophical and organizing-theoretical underpinnings of common articulations of armed Jihadist groups and confront them with an alternative, rhizomatic understanding of conflict. Third, we discuss and conclude the essay with this new, rhizomatic understanding of conflict emergence and its practical implications.
The Rise of ISIL
Not a Unity, but a Rhizome
Commonly, Western military organizations view radical Islamist groups as structurally homogeneous, ideologically coherent, and even irrational in their actions. This, we argue, is due to two reasons (apart from superficiality): their tendency to view the groups through the nature of their own organizational being, as well as their temporally limited and judicially supervised operational mandates. By convention, the objective of organizational change and development is to identify a time and a location for an organizational problem or a challenge to occur. This spatiotemporal nexus is something military organizations aim to act upon. However, we argue that this is a myopic view that overlooks the rhizomatic emergence of armed resistance groups. In fact, it does little more than serve the discursive purpose of justifying anti-ISIL policies in the West.
In this section, we present the emergence of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). 1 Arguably the prime contemporary example of radical Jihadism, the ISIL movement conquered large swathes of Syrian and Iraqi territory before and during early 2014. However, despite its rather recent appearance on the Western radar of conflict, it has not emerged out of nowhere. Within the confines of this essay, we show how ISIL emerged from the rhizomatic foundation that made its appearance possible. Toward the end of this description, we discuss the recent institutionalization (“tree-becoming”) process of ISIL in its attempt to transcend its current, pre-institutionalized state, and the potential challenges it faces in this process.
The background to ISIL’s successful emergence is based on the failure of the Baghdad administration in establishing security in Iraq. It is also fueled by Sunni dissatisfaction with the Shi’ite leadership in Baghdad, and is largely built on the remains of the U.S.-toppled Ba’athist administration, formerly led by Saddam Hussein. Unlike its organizational predecessors, the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI) and al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI), which focused on fighting the post-2003 administration in Iraq, ISIL has expanded its view and aims at replacing current power structures in the Middle East, effectively disregarding the British and French spheres of influence drawn in the 1916 Sykes–Picot Agreement after the collapse of the Ottoman Empire. ISIL and its predecessors did not appear suddenly, but after more than a decade of anti-government activity mainly in Iraq, envisioned by Abu Mus’ab al-Zarqawi, the founder of one of ISIL’s predecessor groups, al-Tawhid wa-al-Jihad (Price, Milton, al-‘Ubaydi, & Lahoud, 2014).
Following a dispute between Zarqawi-led ISI and Ayman al-Zawahiri, al-Qaeda’s second in command, over the deadly Amman bombings of 2005, Zarqawi established the Mujahideen Shura Council in 2006, in an attempt to expand the local Iraqi influence within the movement and settle differences between the factions (Warrick, 2015). Later that year, however, he was fatally injured in a U.S. air strike near the city of Baqubah. Between the years 2008 and 2011, the movement’s capabilities for capitalizing on the Syrian disarray were dramatically increased (Fishman, 2014). In 2010, the leader of the ISI and the Mujahideen Shura Council, Abu Omar al-Baghdadi, along with his deputy, Abu Ayyub al-Masri, was killed in a raid by U.S. and Iraqi forces near the city of Tikrit (Warrick, 2015). Due to this turn of events, the leadership position was now vacated, only to be filled by a new kind of leader (Warrick, 2015): “not a warrior, but a scholar, a professor of Islamic law who held a doctoral degree . . . Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi” (p. 244). In April 2013, al-Baghdadi officially announced the expansion of the movement to Syria, as well as its new name, the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (The Middle East Media Research Institute, 2013).
Prior to its rise to prominence in 2014, the tactical palette of ISIL mainly consisted of insurgency, terrorism, and guerrilla warfare. Most of its core leadership has been involved in clandestine and violent opposition since the 2003 collapse of the Ba’athist state. In the civil wars of Syria and Iraq, cooperation between the Jihadist and non-Jihadist groups is rather atypical. In a sense, ISIL and al-Qaeda are competing for the same leading role in the global Jihad. The grand movements attempt to absorb smaller armed groups within their own ranks. This tendency to absorb is at work both during operations as well as at other times. Muslims living in the West are often recruited or taught to sympathize with the cause through social media sites, and the style of communication varies from traditional (religious) to contemporary (anti-occupation) styles. Despite its recent successes in capitalizing on the turmoil in Syria, ISIL has not been able to displace or even marginalize al-Qaeda (Berger, 2014; Zelin, 2014).
Startlingly, 17 of ISIL’s 25 key leaders have served prison sentences in U.S.-managed Iraqi prisons following the occupation that started in 2003 (Chulov, 2014). While incarcerated by the world-leading democracy, they not only got to know each other, but also developed their management processes, logistics, and communication. In other words, Camp Bucca near the city of Umm Qasr was their “university.” 2 Some escaped during the “Breaking the Walls” campaign led by the predecessor group, the ISI, during 2012 and 2013. However, ISIL has not stopped expanding since its immediate military successes. At least in the main urban centers, it has made an attempt to consolidate its grip on power through the development of its administration.
A Mix of Discipline and Duration
A key factor in understanding Jihadism is the conception of time. In the West, adhering to chronological (“clock”) time is crucial. Western expeditionary military operations have their limited political mandates and thus the military operations have specific time frames within which to take effect. Moreover, similarly to Western social organization in general, Western military organizations are organized as hierarchical tree structures in which command and control is enacted through bureaucratic planning and execution processes based on chronological time. The “other” side, however, experiences no pressure to calculate time. In fact, the Taliban is often quoted as saying, “NATO has all the watches, but we have all the time.” This reminds us of a fundamental difference vis-à-vis the conception of time in various phases of social development. Whereas the pre-modern and largely agrarian society is well aware of the cycles of nature in terms of life and death, day and night, and plowing and harvesting (in other words, its life-world revolves around “becoming”)—a bureaucratic understanding of society is chronologically ordered. In effect, an immediate reaction to this would be that ISIL emerged from pre-modern, tribal and religious soil, but aims to achieve a more sophisticated level of institutionalization—by trying to become a bureaucracy. When journalist Martin Chulov (2014) interviewed a notable Jihadist, who goes by the nom de guerre of Abu Ahmed, about his incarceration in Camp Bucca, the importance of available time became apparent: We had so much time to sit and plan . . . It was the perfect environment. We all agreed to get together when we got out. The way to reconnect was easy. We wrote each other’s details on the elastic of our boxer shorts. When we got out, we called. Everyone who was important to me was written on white elastic. I had their phone numbers, their villages. By 2009, many of us were back doing what we did before we were caught. But this time we were doing it better.
Initial success and rapid expansion into new territories pose new challenges for ISIL itself. Through the evolution of its emergence, its “underground cells” turned into military units, also evident at the tactical level; hit-and-run has turned into “conquer and hold territory.” In this development, the fact that ISIL had several ex-Ba’athists from the toppled Saddam administration in high positions in its ranks played a crucial role (Barrett, 2014). In fact, this phenomenon is not foreign to Western powers either; ex-soldiers are known to have become mercenaries for some of the numerous private “security services training companies” such as Blackwater (in this regard, see Scahill, 2008). The most critical factor in terms of the movement’s longevity lies in its administration—how to hold onto power and keep the network functioning. At the same time, however, we should bear in mind that military commanders rarely make valuable civilian administrators. The greatest challenge ISIL will face is that of holding and governing the territory it has acquired, as its totalitarian method of governance is unlikely to evoke lasting affection toward the administration. It is one thing to motivate ideologically driven fighters on the frontlines, and another to convince a largely civilian society of pragmatic modes of governance.
Moreover, the recent report of torture practiced by the Central Intelligence Agency (“Senate Intelligence Committee Report on CIA Torture,” 2015) may function as evidence of Western malpractices and thus increase the anti-Western sentiment in the Middle East, thereby helping movements such as ISIL in their recruitment efforts. What they have on their side is the clarity of their religious message, although some Islamic scholars have challenged its radical interpretations of Islam. This radicalism is one of the ingredients in their offering to the Arab youth in the Middle East, who are currently left with little hope of a peaceful future: ISIL is one of the few movements in the area with credible promises of adventure and hope for a new future for its followers (Barrett, 2014). Thus, it seems that ISIL has the upper hand in creating meaning for its followers, providing as it does a “counter-culture” against the Western mainstream. 3
Tree-Becoming—The End of ISIL?
ISIL has not been content with its immediate military successes, however. At least in the main urban centers, it has made an attempt to consolidate its grip on power through the development of its administration. Thus, it is drawing not only domestic and foreign fighters to be sent to the battlefields of the Jihad, but also a large number of civilian technocrats. This could also be the weakest link in the ISIL movement, as its continuity depends on its prowess in the civilian realm. As any student of civil engineering knows, it cannot prevail unless “. . . it can maintain existing public infrastructure and meet demands for food, water, health care, sanitation and energy, and build and sustain a functioning economy . . .” (Barrett, 2014, p. 9). According to U.S. Army estimates, ISIL employs somewhere between 20,000 and 31,500 fighters, as well as a large number of administrative staff. Fighters are commonly volunteers or conscripts, sometimes coerced into service by local commanders loyal to influential families or tribes of the conquered areas. In a similar manner, the administrators consist of volunteers and workers ISIL has convinced to stay by paying them their salaries. These people are not ideologically motivated into staying, and thus their loyalty to the movement cannot be regarded as self-evident (Barrett, 2014).
Hence, the main question for ISIL will be how to organize their administration in the long run—in the “tree” or the “rhizome” way. The answer cannot lie in using totalitarian control—the sheer size of conquered territory alone makes delegation a necessity in and of itself. In other words, ISIL has to be able to assure its non-ideological employees and allies of its purpose and place in the Middle East (Barrett, 2014). Barrett goes on to point out that in terms of organizational culture, the “logic” of administration within ISIL is the hierarchical and religious military structure. The provincial system affords more freedoms to the local governors, who are systematically rotated through the controlled areas, most likely as an attempt to prevent the emergence of local power cliques. The provincial governors have administrative and services capabilities under them. Despite all this, ISIL is a prime example of totalitarianism, showing no tolerance of dissent. This strongly implies that the “security” logic within the movement is the dominant one, also considering the role of the Security and Intelligence Council, responsible for preventing any aspirant plots against its leaders from materializing. Such an important organizational function most likely affects the way things are managed within the movement.
The second question concerns the extent to which ISIL may stretch, without cutting off its critical nodes. The organization is fairly straightforward, with the core of the movement believed to consist of four or five “councils.” The Military Council is responsible for conquering and holding the acquired territory, whereas the Provincial Council oversees the civilian administration within the state. Other councils are Financial, Media, and “possibly a Council that looks after fighters and their families” (Barrett, 2014, p. 36). There are also several other organizations and actors that try to use the networks ISIL has created, such as international criminal groups, black market investees, and drug and weapon smugglers. This is intriguing, considering the twin objectives of the movement: to establish an ideologically driven government based on the ideas of Salafi 4 and Takfiri, 5 as well as conquering more land. Arguably, the movement has been able to provide meaning vis-à-vis the Assad administration of Syria. However, its harsh method of governance and intrusion into the private lives of the people living in the area it controls have resulted in “popular acquiescence through fear rather than any enthusiastic embrace of the new order” (Barrett, 2014, p. 46). Contemplating the evolution of guerrilla and terrorist movements leads us to an evaluation of the threat of solidification; in trying to institutionalize the Jihad, ISIL will also lose the flexibility of the rhizome. In the following section, we turn our attention to the ontologies of organizing, as we further problematize why movements such as ISIL are not understood, let alone foreseen in the Western discourse on organizing and conflict studies.
Ontologies of Organizing
The established epistemological perspectives of organizational research could be a result of its historical foundations, building on the traditions of sociology and engineering (Shenhav, 2007). Even though naive realism has largely been abandoned, calls for “critical” realism are abundant—among them assaults on “postmodernism” and “extreme social constructionism” (Fairclough, 2005); statements to the effect that the “cultural-linguistic-poststructural-postmodern” turn suffers from ontological ambiguity, thus making critical realism a much more viable alternative (Fleetwood, 2005), as well as simple statements defending the importance of the principles of falsification and verification in (organizational) research and theory development (Miller & Tsang, 2011). Ontology, as we see it, is about what we view the world to be, or what kind thereof. Therefore, we see that answers referring merely to the importance of “looking” or “understanding” what there is are circular, and thus unhelpful. As we understand it, the foundation of human organizing is too often explained away, rather mechanistically, with contextual factors—without questioning or discussing the fundamental nature of “being” that works in the background, making everything possible. Consider the example of ISIL above, and how we could not see the forest for the trees. The forest is often dark and devoid of clear formation. Thus, the epistemic interest is laden with the pre-understanding of the underlying ontological format. In the military context, Western military intelligence tries to find the adversary’s military units in a known format. In this light, “realism” signifies the abandonment of ontological reflection.
Robert Chia (1999) challenges the human tendency to understand organizations in stasis, and advances process philosophy as an epistemic movement highlighting the importance of understanding the metaphysics of change rather than that of substance: “The ontological act of organization is an act of arresting, stabilizing and simplifying what would otherwise be the irreducibly dynamic and complex character of lived-experience” (p. 224). Process philosophers of organizing have also resisted the institutionally minded view that organizations would be inherently inclined to resist any change. Although we might agree on the instincts of conservatism and self-preservation of organizations, understanding change in the organizational context is not as developed as it could be. Change is the normal condition of organizations (Tsoukas & Chia, 2002), and they are in fact closely associated with it (Linstead & Thanem, 2007), not to mention war and conflict, where change is inevitable. Previously, some more “established” views have treated organizational change through four basic theories: life cycle, teleology, dialectics, and evolution (Van de Ven & Poole, 1995), and thereafter as things or processes (Van de Ven & Poole, 2005). In accordance with a process philosophical alternative reading of organizational change, an “unowned” view that takes change, uncertainty, and unintended consequences into account has also been theoretically articulated (MacKay & Chia, 2013).
The “New” Conflict
The idea of “national security” has been reconstructed since the early 1990s. Environmental, migration, media, cyber, terrorism, hybrid, and gender issues have all widened the traditional “military” scope of conflict. 6 Thus, in the context of security, a focus on individuals and communities has displaced the concept of state (Shaw, 2011). Information is a key ingredient in the positioning of any organization—not merely a tool in the organization’s everyday practice, but a weapon in the “war of positioning” that takes place in the info-sphere (MacKay & Munro, 2012). According to Munro (2005), business and military organizations are increasingly reliant upon information technology—in fact, information, culture, and business are “weaponizing” in their own right due to the global information networks. For Munro, the means of production of the new service economies are increasingly orientated around the exploitation of employees’ and customers’ minds, their emotions, and their interactions with each other. He equates information warfare with the way in which people understand and relate to their environment, making it a matter of phenomenology 7 (Munro, 2010a), rather than objectifying empirical analysis.
As information is in the nexus of organizing, analyzing it becomes of paramount importance. From this perspective, security and intelligence services face a new challenge of understanding and influencing the digital and material architecture of human social interaction, developed in both civilian and military spheres (Munro, 2010a). The traditional boundary between military and non-military is fundamentally blurred. The way in which information, culture, and money have become weapons is a vital part of the concept of so-called “hybrid” war. When engaging in such warfare, lower level actors may influence the public by using their anonymity as a source of power. In fact, human collectives exert more influence through the use of mass/social media, out of the reach of the traditional authorities. In this light, practices that emerge around “nomadic” information emphasize communication (Munro, 2010b).
In the historical context of the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Empire, the key factor in the doctrine of irregular warfare (Lawrence, 1935) was the insight regarding the role of decentralized means in realizing centralized objectives 8 —a phenomenon often paralleled with contemporary Islamic military groups (Arquilla & Ronfeldt, 1999; for an analysis of the role of Lawrence, see also Khdour et al., 2014). At the tactical level, this is demonstrated in the way in which the Arab fighters of the early 20th century emerged from and fled back into the silence of the desert, as well as the way in which ISIL became a state-like player in the heart of the Middle East. In understanding the rise of ISIL, embracing becoming requires the abandonment of the idea of “essence” (Nayak, 2008). In the following section, we move on to discuss the processual perspective on organizing, becoming, and the ontology of the “rhizome” and how they are intertwined (Deleuze & Guattari, 1980).
Being, Becoming, and Appearing
The immovable and the flow
“The Cartesian world is a dead world, a world of mechanical movement, a world of forces and impacts in which change is thought of as changes in the spatial configuration of a set of separately existing parts.” Shotter’s (2006) view (p. 599), outlining the origins of Cartesian thinking, reveals the paradigm within which many of the essentialist-mechanistic organization studies handle and discuss their research problems. In the light of the history of war theory, this is reminiscent of the thinking of Henri Jomini (2008), who thought that war could be modeled and calculated geometrically. Understanding the machine-like world requires a pre-understanding of what is, to describe and prescribe the methods of intervention. This school of thought can be traced to one pre-Socratic philosopher, namely, Parmenides of Elea. His poem On Nature was one of the major influences on Plato and, further, on Western thinking in general for the most part: . . . the one, that [it] is and that [it] is not not to be, is the path of conviction, for it attends upon true reality, but the other, that [it] is not and that [it] must not be, this, I tell you, is a path wholly without report: for neither could you apprehend what is not, for it is not to be accomplished, nor could you indicate it. (Fragment 2, quoted in Palmer, 2012)
More often than not, Parmenides is interpreted as a proponent of static essentialism, although differences of opinion among specialists in this field do exist. His thinking is commonly identified along the divide between “truth” and “opinion.” 9 Moreover, the juxtaposition of the thinking of Parmenides and Heraclitus (whose thinking will be discussed below) is common, although it is not fully justified, considering the scarcity of their surviving works. In any case, Parmenides’ influence on Western thinking has been enormous, as the role of mechanistic, reductionist, and undeniably successful natural sciences and the scientific method in general should be acknowledged. It would be downright foolish to suggest that existentialist philosophers would have managed to send rovers to explore Mars, for instance. Yet, a line should be drawn between the phenomena that could and should be understood with certain philosophical toolboxes. The unfolding of the social world and the becoming of organizing cannot be captured fully with rationalist apparatus, starting from a static world, understood through reduction.
In his lifetime, Heraclitus of Ephesus was considered to be a cynical recluse who believed that everything starts from and ends in fire (Laërtius, 1925). His philosophy is often thought to be encapsulated in the saying “everything flows” or “one cannot step twice into the same river,” which leaves his deep and complex thinking gravely underrepresented 10 (Nayak, 2014). For instance, Heraclitus thought that war and conflict are constitutive of communal life; not only are they underlying and ever-present, but also they create the community, which is not, therefore, a harmonious unity devoid of strife (Graham, 2011; Nayak, 2014). If one were required to sum up and compare the two pre-Socratics, the thinking of Parmenides and Heraclitus could be distinguished along an axis of seeing: for the former, the knowing sage “sees the truth,” whereas the latter most probably considers that most humans are blind to it. Thus, it is hardly surprising that the process scholars dedicated to understanding the becoming of organizing have embraced the work of Heraclitus and the metaphysics of change in general, as it “. . . denies our ability to accurately represent such a reality using established symbols, concepts and categories precisely because reality is ever-changing and hence resistant to description in terms of fixed categories” (Chia, 1999, p. 210).
The rhizome
In the following section, we introduce and elaborate on the rhizomatic alternative to the two basic ontologies described above. We select and develop the notion of the rhizome as an alternative ontology in understanding humanity (Deleuze & Guattari, 1980): The rhizome itself assumes very diverse forms, from ramified surface extension in all directions to concretion into bulbs and tubers. . . . any point of a rhizome can be connected to anything other, and must be. . . . Our criticism of these linguistic models is . . . that they are not abstract enough, that they do not reach the abstract machine that connects a language to the semantic and pragmatic contents of statements, to collective assemblages of enunciation, to a whole micropolitics of the social field. A rhizome ceaselessly establishes connections between semiotic chains, organizations of power, and circumstances relative to the arts, sciences, and social struggles. (p. 7)
According to Deleuze and Guattari (1980), the first principle of the rhizome is that any point of a rhizome can be connected to any other, and must be. There is no demand for a hierarchy, and matter or information does not need to flow vertically through the formal structure. The second is heterogeneity. This means that the traits are not necessarily linked to traits of the same nature. The resonances can develop between disparate lines, and a plane of consistency can be constructed across difference. The third principle is multiplicity, and the fourth is rupture. A rhizome may be broken, or shattered at a given spot, but it will start up again on one of its old lines, or on new lines. For a summary of the differences between arborescent and rhizomatic systems, see Table 1 (Glezos, 2012, p. 178).
Arborescent Systems and Rhizomatic Stems.
For Deleuze and Guattari, philosophy (a) begins from the middle, (b) is creation, and (c) happens when an enabling outside force appears. In other words, philosophy cannot start from zero-level “truths” (or mathematical “axioms”) or the end of history, but every beginning is already in the middle of becoming. According to rhizomatic ontology, organizing emerges from the collective want of the social system as a whole. Unlike linguistic and structuralist models, the rhizome works “under” the conscious, linguistic level of human individuals and societies, and hence beyond conscious articulation, analysis, and critique. This “social unconscious” functions below the surface of things although there is little to show at the level of human individuals or collectives at any given point in time. Similarly to a fungus in its natural environment, we see what emerges above the surface, but the rhizome that gives birth to it remains hidden. Human organizing is such a fungus-like life form although the rhizome (that should be “there” under scrutiny) remains elusive—escaping any attempt at conscious articulation. It is as if there were a small machine deep within the rhizome, one that cannot be linked to other machines. The principle of connectivity ensures that any part of the rhizome may be and will be connected to any other part. This also gives rise to heterogeneity, something which opposes direct associations between subject and object, reference and referent, leader and follower.
In terms of heterogeneity, there are different shades of properties and dimensions, which resist strict categorization—heterogeneity inherently resists homogeneity and the power that creates and supports it. Thus, a rhizome can be compared with a horizontal web of structures with uneven patterns, rather than an even-spaced lattice. Ruptures in the rhizome have no significance: it can be broken anywhere and anytime, but it will continue as it was and be fixed by the rhizome itself. Unlike tree-like structures built on binary logic (Deleuze & Guattari, 1983) that constitute the bulk of early communicative systems, and that aim at describing heterogeneity on the basis of homogeneity—the plurality of branches from one root—the rhizome defies both central organization and the linear conception of time.
The rhizome is not merely a metaphor but also a model according to which life itself appears. For some animal species, burrows are rhizomorphic: “. . . as habitat, means of provision, movement, evasion and rupture” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1983, p. 10). Understanding this takes us a step closer to understanding decentralized armed resistance groups. Moreover, the one aspect of the rhizome is that it eludes strict definitions—every attempt to pin down its meaning will inevitably become obsolete at some point in time. As Deleuze and Guattari (1983) note, the rhizome “. . . never allows itself to be over-coded . . . All multiplicities are flat” (p. 16). There is not and will not be unity in identity or definition, thus the varying characteristics of, say, social movements that fall under some category. In understanding the social condition of the rhizome, one should consider the richly connected, heterogeneous and anarchic nature of the Internet, for instance (Coyne, 2008). Thus, the helpful metaphor in understanding the Internet is that of a rhizome, rather than a “tree” of communication.
Duration and the rhizome
The rhizome has its own sense of time. Following the thinking of Nietzsche and Bergson, Munro (2005) argues that space and time do not exist irrespectively of interpretation. In other words, they do not pose a transcendental condition of human existence. Nothing exists in isolation and the knowledge of things emerges from the process of becoming where language “tracks” things in the form of concepts. The world exists in a state of continuous change and variation, where the ontological reality of the world is in the process of becoming, without any prescribed goals.
The more traditional understanding of contingency could be defined as consisting of two elements: context and time. We challenge this view, as we see contingency as an enabler rather than a constituent of the flow of unfolding events. In other words, suitable contingency creates the very possibility of a certain series of durations occurring in the first place. In this sense, we align closely with Elisabeth Grosz’s (2005) view of the real as durational: . . . it is composed of millions even billions of specific durations, each with its own measure, its own span. Yet each duration can be linked to the others only because each partakes in the whole of duration and carries in it durational flow, that is, an irresistible orientation forward and an impulse to complexify in this movement. It is because the real is construed as fundamentally dynamic, complex, open-ended . . . (p. 11)
This sense of duration in philosophy is attributed to Henri Bergson and his treatment of duration as a “qualitative multiplicity,” as opposed to a quantitative one (Bergson, 1946; Lawlor & Moulard Leonard, 2013). Bergson expounds his view of duration through three images: two spools with a tape running between them (showing the flow of duration from the future to the past), the color spectrum (having a multiplicity of different shades), and an elastic band being stretched (focusing on the action of tracing the “now” as the band is stretched, thus revealing duration). Intriguingly, Bergson insists that no image can capture duration—an image will always be static, whereas duration is “pure mobility.” Two military examples of such “pure mobility” would be the well-known Blitzkrieg and Shock and Awe campaigns, waged by Germany and the United States, respectively. According to Bergson’s view of duration, no mathematical point of time, the “now,” may capture duration although its movement may easily be observed. Sampling certain instances of movement through the mapping of the location in space vis-à-vis time does not represent the motion itself. These three examples reveal Bergson’s two foundational characteristics which, in turn, reveal the nature of duration: unity and multiplicity.
In the flow of becoming, duration (or, more precisely, durations) constitutes the “memory” of organizing. Thus, we resist the urge to talk about “duration” in a conceptual sense, as if we could grasp the totality of the phenomenon with conceptual analysis. Instead, we invite the reader to envision a real, in which several micro-durations take place, overlapping each other, starting and ending not irrespectively of each other, but connected via a web of interrelations that defy static logico-rational attempts at analysis. Consider, for instance, how still photography struggles to communicate the intricacies of unfolding social phenomena.
Discussion
The Rhizomatic Emergence of Conflict
As we have shown in outlining the rise of ISIL, the concept of the rhizome is valuable in understanding the emergence of organizing. Within the confines of this article, the context is armed conflict. Common political, scientific, and technocratic approaches to conflict studies emphasize the role of new technology, such as real-time telecommunications and media. This easily leads to an over-emphasis on the development of technological military capabilities (Astore, 2014), and distracts the analysis away from the phenomenon. With this essay, we bring a new theoretical perspective to understanding the grass-roots emergence of suitable contingencies for flourishing social movements that may end up shaping the power structures—as is the case with the ongoing presence of ISIL in Syria and Iraq. In fact, we argue that merely concentrating on the technological aspect of the military detracts from understanding the rhizomatic emergence of conflict. This is because the mind-set of “engineering” emphasizes prior knowledge, careful planning, and operational design with existing and potential resources. Armed Jihadist groups do not operate in accordance with this logic—nor do any other resistance movements for that matter. The “military” management is likely to be successful only in taking care of its own mission execution in which it arguably is the best authority. Understanding—not to mention controlling—the development of new technology is inefficient at best.
A parallel can be drawn by juxtaposing the concepts of “cyberwar” and “netwar.” In the terminology of the established Western military discourse, Terranova (2007) posits that “a comprehensive, integrated, communication, command and information approach to the conduct of high-intensity conflicts involving formal military forces pitted against each other, ‘netwar’ appears to pose what we describe as ‘uncomfortable social dilemmas’” (pp. 131-132). What is striking in the case of ISIL is that it embodies a “netwar” kind of approach to organizing. It appeared from the “desert”—from terrain that was identified and even considered to be “managed” by the Western Coalition. On the Internet, ISIL may challenge the Western, tree-like security organizations in a rhizomatic environment, thus being able to capitalize on its own strengths. So in this sense, we expand Terranova’s articulation of conflict to characterize the emergence of ISIL. The limits of Western thinking about armed conflict may be seen in the rigidity associated with understanding the set of adversary “options” being confined to a “known” set. For instance, according to Mattis and Hoffman (2005), the U.S. military expects future enemies (read: “terrorists”) to look at four approaches as a kind of “menu” and to select a combination of techniques or tactics accordingly—a merger of different modes and means of war. This unprecedented synthesis is what they call Hybrid Warfare. Our position is, however, that movements such as ISIL do not adhere to these categorizations.
What approaches like this fail to appreciate is that the nomadic war machine is organized in a way that resists the formation of centralized power (Mansfield, 2008). Criminal gangs, the mafia, and “new” Jihadist movements often limit the ability of their leaders to adopt power outside the scope of its transitory or symbolic forms. The power formations are also emergent, fragile, and unpredictable, as even radically undesired processes of organizing may emerge. In this setting, perhaps even more so than in others, we might find “monsters” living “on the edge.” Monstrous organizations (Thanem, 2011) live on the peripheries of established order, not least in the case of ISIL. From our rhizomatic and postmodern perspective, what organizing is lies in its communication. 11 For the purposes of theoretically articulating our case example, ISIL is how it is communicated, both among its sympathizers as well as in the Western sphere. Despite this ambivalent view of knowledge, we have arrived at an incontestable conclusion: ISIL emerged from a rhizome. Reverting to the language of Bergson, Deleuze, and Guattari, information about the organization becomes the organization—or better—organizing is the becoming of information from within the rhizome.
This view leads us to understanding the necessity to relax the requirement of predictive value in much of social studies. The manifestation of the rhizome (ISIL) was influenced (and fed back into) the social formation in which it was embedded. As Deleuze and Guattari remind us, the rhizome works in the background, waiting to be manifested through the respective durations. Thus, the concept of the “rhizome” represents the social ontology—the social universe of human beings. In Table 2, we propose how understanding the fundamental differences between the three philosophical schools of organizing helps us understand the differences in their manifestations in the world of armed conflict.
Underlying Philosophical Schools and Their Organizational Manifestations in the Context of Conflict.
As shown in Table 2, according to the philosopher Parmenides, “being” is exemplified by a static organization, and engaging with it is conducted through forecasting and reaction. Heraclitean “becoming” is characterized by the flow of the developmental process, as well as the inevitable dialectic of trial and error. The third level is that of the rhizome, outlined by Deleuze and Guattari. It appears through emergence, and “management” in this context takes place through the registers of careful anticipation and cultural cultivation.
Practical Implications for Organizing and Conflict
In understanding ISIL in the light of our theoretical outline of the rhizome, we are drawn to ponder the practical implications. The ethical resonance of the rhizomatic understanding enables us to act differently. What are the implications of this for managing 12 armed conflict? From the cultural perspective, preventing conflict is a question of preparing the ground for possibility—we should work toward minimizing the reasons for the conflict to emerge in the first place. Until now, Western powers have shown little interest (beyond public speeches) in developing the Middle East in keeping with the values of democracy, freedom of speech, and social equality for various minority groups. Rather, their main interest has been—and is, for that matter—in maintaining power cliques that favor their resource-driven policies. 13 In light of this, the Jihadists’ argument about Western interventionism and the continued support for local dictators in the Middle East (bin Laden, 2005) is justified—The Crusades can be seen as the start of a long development culminating in the conquest of Iraq in 2003.
What this policy generates, apart from huge revenues for Western “defense” industries, is possibilities for terrorism to emerge. What is regularly omitted from the detailed analysis, as well as the public discourse, is the systemic perspective of the conflict. This is something that is particularly needed in this case; the developments after the rise of ISIL have done little to allay fears, especially from the European perspective. While naïve condemnation is hardly fruitful, the West should carefully ponder its choices and their respective consequences. Agitating political turmoil further or resorting to old-school proxy dictators in the area will most likely result in the old problems reappearing. In other words, the eternal return of the becoming of conflict will be inevitable. There will be no lasting military-only solution to the issue, not to speak of using radical groups as proxies, as has been the case until now. The continued Anglo-American support for Israel and Saudi Arabia also serves to further deepen and prolong tensions. 14
The ontology of the rhizome provides us with a radical theory of social causality; the idea that social phenomena may (or may not) emerge from either the same or different conditions—if and when the historico-politico-cultural contingencies enable a certain movement to flourish. The rhizome of Jihad appeared, how and when it did, due to factors contributing to its emergence and nature. Note that these factors may be identified and analyzed only retrospectively—prospective measures are radically limited to cultural approaches—something military and security apparatuses largely avoid and detest. Military organizations lack the capabilities of assessing potential conflict areas and situations prior to the emergence of armed struggle. In other words, their tools are limited—war-machines wage war. With respect to understanding an enemy that emerges or is fueled from a rhizome, this constitutes a problem. This is because Western armed forces most commonly operate according to the logic of “force against force.” Asymmetrically operating enemies are much more challenging to confront, while preventing such conflict in the first instance is virtually impossible. Moreover, from a critical perspective, professional armies have little incentive to eradicate or prevent armed conflict completely. War is their bread and butter. If we understand terrorism as a social disease, similar to measles in a human being, we may see the use of military capabilities as resembling taking medicine for a certain set of symptoms. In the event that the medicament is appropriate, the disease may well be contained and even eradicated. If, however, the root causes of the disease are not understood and treated accordingly, it is highly likely that the disease will re-emerge. Similarly, if the causes of terrorism (e.g., sense of injustice, social and economic insecurity, imperialism) are not understood and tackled with appropriate measures, terrorism will remain.
Apart from the rhizome of Jihad, we are continuously surrounded by others. Take, for instance, the ubiquitous Internet and its social media platforms enabling people to connect and communicate instantaneously across the globe. In this universe of meaning-making, static organizations can find it hard to survive. Through this understanding, it is increasingly difficult to grasp the constant, non-linear change that takes place within the rhizome and around it. The volatile dynamics that it embodies requires us to condition and understand social realities in radically new ways. New rhizomes are constantly emerging and changing, static understanding is condemned to marginalization and eventual defeat. In this vein, we could in fact speak of the “rhizomatization” of the global digital realm. As it happens, this is also the platform on which ISIL thrives against the Western intelligence services in its recruiting and social media propaganda campaigns. The Internet continues to be the domain in which ISIL has “force against force.”
From the perspective of nation-states, small countries are in a challenging situation regarding their national identity as they face large-scale global changes. For instance, the mediatized dimension of war has transformed the image of conflict in the eyes of citizens and politicians alike from large-scale warfare to “humanitarian” operations conducted far from their Western homelands. On one hand, computers and the Internet contribute to physically transferring war well behind clean and tidy technology—making it part of the flow of information that constitutes our identities and everyday lives. On the other hand, ubiquitous and ongoing identity-building processes take place uninterrupted almost irrespective of national security apparatuses. The “traditional” postmodern nightmare of a virtual (and thus invisible) artificial intelligence initiating an all-encompassing worldwide war (the Terminator vision) could well be replaced with one involving identity-building on a global scale, which the so-called “developed” societies could no longer adapt themselves to. Social change initiated by such actors and forces could entail unforeseeable consequences with non-linear or even chaotic ramifications. Intriguingly, the contemporary horror scenario would not be artificial intelligence out of control, but a process of identification that has radical disregard for the bounds of tradition—thus initiating an existential struggle within the established Western societies.
Heads of the Hydra
In this regard, one should also consider the U.S.-led global assassination campaign (Reed, 2015). In this context, one metaphor rises above others, namely, the Hydra—the serpent-like, swamp-dwelling monster of Greek mythology which, according to legend, was successfully slain by Heracles. In a similar vein, we may ask what the long-term consequence of the U.S. policy of assassinating terror suspects with Navy Seals, Tomahawks, and unmanned drones will be. From our rhizomatic perspective, we challenge this policy. In fact, we claim that an organization or a social movement cannot be “killed off” by assassinating its leader. Just as the Hydra grew new heads, new Osamas will emerge (and indeed have emerged). Targeted killings have two systematic consequences. One is that organizations engage in negotiating new leadership, as the old incumbent is gone. This often takes time and may significantly hinder the organization in carrying out its operations in the short term. The eventual outcome of the assassination, however, is not guaranteed to materialize as planned—it may have intended or unintended consequences. In other words, the assassination may enforce or erode the position of the assassin. The second possible outcome is associated with the unintended consequences. As the new leader(s) may be even more radical than the old ones, the movement’s strategy may be successfully redirected. 15
Consider, for instance, the reaction to the assassination of the leader of Hezbollah, Sheikh Abbas al-Mussawi, on February 16, 1992 (Nasrallah, 2007): By murdering His Eminence al-Sayyed, our secretary-general, they wanted to kill our spirit of resistance and destroy our will for jihad, but his blood will keep simmering in our veins and will only increase our determination to forge ahead and heighten our enthusiasm to pursue the path. (p. 54)
Apart from conventional, warlike rhetoric, Nasrallah is quite right in his reference to increased efforts: under his leadership, Hezbollah was able to step up its organizational capabilities considerably, effectively ending the Israeli occupation of South Lebanon, negotiating significant prisoner swaps, and securing several seats in the Lebanese parliament. Although al-Mussawi was an able leader of the organization, Hezbollah rose to its current stature only after his assassination. In other words, tactical successes may become bitter strategic defeats, as shown both in the case of al-Mussawi (Bednarz & Bergman, 2011), as well as the Western expeditionary “frenzy” in the Middle East (Raitasalo, 2014). We may now clearly see that the continued “anti-terrorist” efforts in postoccupation Iraq have significantly contributed to AQI developing into ISIL. It is impossible to anticipate the direction in which the movement will develop after the assassination of its leader, which is evident in the development of ISIL into its current form. Thus, even when completely disregarding the ethical register (that random killing is “not OK”), not even in the pragmatic sense does “mowing the lawn” work as outlined in hawkish political speeches or the action plans of military men. Thus, Western powers should consider alternatives to the murderous campaign they have adopted.
Another mistake is to think that the Jihadist movements have or should have the same organizational philosophy as the tree-like Western armed forces. This leads to understanding them through the Western organizational models. In fact, the fighters in Syria and Iraq leverage social media and mobile apps in their recruiting processes, indicating a move away from the “organizational” view of organizing (the model of al-Qaeda) into a movement unhindered by organizational structures (Brachman, 2014). In this new, emerging culture, several Jihadist supporters engage in direct rather than “official” forms of communication—even talking directly to the soldiers on the Jihad frontline through social media. This has led to the erosion of ideological power among the senior management of the Jihadist movements. The global social media channels undoubtedly play a crucial recruitment role in the human resource management processes of ISIL’s high command. The movement is also keeping an eye on the future by explicitly including children in its campaign of expansion. Apart from recruiting them, they also indoctrinate them ideologically, 16 along with training them in the basics of fighting (Brannen, 2014). Not only serving as a short-term resource providing blood transfusions for injured fighters and acting as carriers of bomb vests, the youth also play a long-term role. They are an investment in the longevity and resilience of ISIL.
Conclusion
Inverting our policy-level position further to the “other” side, we could say that in effect the emergence of ISIL defines us in the West. As Linstead and Thanem (2007) remind us, “. . . organizations are defined not by what they control or attempt to control, and how it is resisted . . . but by what escapes their attempts to control and accomplishes resistance by means other than opposition” (p. 1491). The Islamic State appeared from the rhizome of Jihad in the heart of the Middle East, written in the durations in the flow of becoming that constitute the “memory” of its organizing. Its emergence in 2014 came as a “surprise” even to a large number of security analysts, not to mention the general Western public. Naturally, security analysts and intelligence services may always resort to hindsight and say that all signs of the rise of ISIL were visible and discernible—and that the world powers turned a blind eye to the unfolding chaos. Alternatively, they could say that no-one could have foreseen the emergence of the movement. This is a very human, yet unforgivable position for a discerning security analyst. Yet another option would be to view the rise of ISIL as an intended consequence of conscious attempts at destabilizing the region. This, however, would need solid backing from clandestine documents which, needless to say, we have not been able to acquire.
The question the ISIL movement currently faces is a severe existential one—on one hand it has to change its violent ways to ensure popular support, increased internal stability, and continued flow of income. On the other hand, institutionalizing or “tree-becoming” may prove to be its downfall—a movement with strong roots in armed resistance and Islamist ideology may not be able to achieve longevity in conditions that require a peaceful and pragmatic culture of organizing. Thus, there is great irony in the way in which ISIL has developed of late. Although it emerged from the rhizome, it has sought to institutionalize its existence through more institutional and bureaucratic means into a tree-structure. This, we argue, is likely to bring about the demise of the radical group—tree-becoming is something completely alien to its origins in the armed resistance of the occupiers of post-Saddam Iraq. It remains to be seen whether ISIL can sustain the changes in its own internal structure and dynamics, especially when it comes to the rapidly evolving politico-military environment of the Middle East. In the light of its brutal means of governance, however, we remain highly skeptical of ISIL’s longevity.
The eternal cycle of becoming may produce something completely different from what the security think tanks might be forecasting. Yet another, perhaps even more radical alternative might be around the corner. It may very well be the case that the rhizome of Jihad will spawn another life form—a new, a more resilient movement—and sooner than we think. In any case, the transition of ISIL, just like its emergence, will most likely not be a peaceful one. In the end, we are brought back to the Heraclitean view of the world (Graham, 2011), in which war is the ruling force—the “father of all and king of all.”
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors gratefully acknowledge the helpful comments of Philip Gylfe, Juha Saarinen, Henri Schildt, Virpi Sorsa, and Jouni Virtaharju in developing this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
