‘Lone Wolf’ Phenomenon Started in West, Adopted by Qaeda, ISIS

French police in Toulouse after the ISIS-claimed shooting by Mohammed Merah in 2012. (AFP)
French police in Toulouse after the ISIS-claimed shooting by Mohammed Merah in 2012. (AFP)
TT
20

‘Lone Wolf’ Phenomenon Started in West, Adopted by Qaeda, ISIS

French police in Toulouse after the ISIS-claimed shooting by Mohammed Merah in 2012. (AFP)
French police in Toulouse after the ISIS-claimed shooting by Mohammed Merah in 2012. (AFP)

One of the most dangerous predicaments facing those confronting terrorism in the world, especially in Europe and the United States, is how to face the so-called “lone wolf” phenomenon. The phenomenon is in fact part of the greater map of what is known as “sleeper cells” that extremist groups use to carry out their operations in areas that are far from the main base of the terror organizations.

This raises several questions, most importantly: “Do the terrorist groups that have filled the world with terror recognize the lone wolves? If yes, how and why?”

As he sought answers to these questions, the researcher came across a document released by the terrorist ISIS organization in which it hailed the lone wolves. It described them as “heroes” for striking down the “infidels and those who supported them in combating Muslims.” The document resorted to the Quran to justify the acts of the terrorists, which they interpret as an “act of great worship that will bring them closer to God.” It blamed the West’s oppression of Muslims for the emergence of lone wolves.

Lone wolves: A western concept

Research has revealed that the “lone wolf” phenomenon originated in the West, not the Arab or Muslim world. Researcher Dr. Mahmoud al-Bazzi wrote about this in his work, “Lone Wolves … ISIS’ Last Resort.”

In it, he said that the term “lone wolf” became common in 1990 when two racist Americans Alex Curtis and Tom Metzger called on individual and small cells to spread terrorism through operating underground and in secrect, instead of working in the open and for large organizations.

Since 1990, racist attacks carried out by such groups emerged in the US. The cells were not part of any organization and they called for attacks against non-whites through all possible means. If arrested, the assailants were told to inform authorities that they “had nothing to say.”

Bazzi listed a number of attacks carried out in Europe and the US that bear the clear hallmarks of “lone wolf” Anglosaxon protestants, not Muslims.

A sample of this is the February 1992 attack by Constable James Allen Moore, who shot dead three Catholics at the Belfast office Sinn Fein, a republican party that calls for uniting Ireland.

In the same vein, terrorist Jewish physician Baruch Goldstein shot and killed 29 people and wounded 150 others in a machinegun attack at the Ibrahimi compound in al-Khalil in the Palestinian territories on February 25, 1994.

Perhaps the worst lone wolf attack in history was the April 19, 1995 bombing of the Federal building in Oklahoma City in the US. The assailant, Timothy McVeigh, drove an explosives-laden truck into the building in an attack directed against the government. A total of 168 people were killed and 680 wounded in the bombing.

In 2011, Anders Breivik went on a rampage at a youth camp on Utoya island in Norway, killing 60 youths. He identified himself as a “secular Christian, who was seized by religious and racial intolerance and delusions of crusader wars.”

Qaeda before ISIS

A lot has been said over the past two decades about the United States’ ties with political Islamic movements and later al-Qaeda. The ISIS group later emerged from the Qaeda fold.

The question that should then be asked is: Had al-Qaeda adopted the lone wolf strategy before ISIS did?

Britain’s Daily Telegraph reported that al-Qaeda was the first to follow this strategy and it was later adopted by ISIS, which had spread the guidelines on lone wolf attacks on its followers.

The guidelines urged the followers to stay away from their places of residence after carrying out their attack. They are advised to avoid using their telephone and be wary of leaving behind any incriminating fingerprints. They should cover their face when they execute the attack and place a withdrawal plan before even thinking of putting a plot into action.

They were urged to cause as many casualties as possible. In addition, ISIS called on would-be lone wolf attackers to blend in society by shaving their beards, dressing up in western clothes and putting on perfume, even ones that contain alcohol. The attacker should blend in the local society to avoid appearing as a Muslim. They should also refrain from regularly heading to mosque for prayers.

Given the detailed guidelines, one has to ask: Are those behind it amateurs or do they have experience in international intelligence and can disguise themselves in their surroundings?

Road to recruitment: How and who?

Regardless of the minds behind the lone wolves, the vital question that should be asked is: How are they able to recruit new members despite the distance between the terrorists and what are the characteristics of the candidates?

The long distance between the plotters is no longer a major issue or obstacle as modern technology has made it easy to overcome geographic restrictions. The terrorists have access to satellite telephones that allow them to evade government and intelligence surveillance.

It is likely however that would-be lone wolf attackers are lured over the internet. Some studies revealed that ISIS has over 90,000 Facebook and Twitter Arabic accounts, as well as 40,000 accounts in other languages.

According to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, “lone wolves” or “lone cells” are much harder to monitor. They pose an intelligence challenge more than terror networks operating on the ground. They can garner information on the latter through surveillance, but lone extremists emerge from spontaneous ideas that are difficult to control with traditional weapons.

The characteristics of the lone wolf has been the center of debates. The best candidate for ISIS are individuals who have mental and social problems and a criminal record. Figures that do not fall under this umbrella have, disconcertingly, started to appear.

They all however share the main purpose of attacking the “enemy and fragmenting it through individual acts that do not need great organization.” Organized armies face difficulties in confronting individual extremist elements because they are unpredictable.

Some observers believe that even though the lone wolves act alone, they ultimately cannot be separated from ISIS.

Professor Jytte Klausen, a scholar of politics who teaches at Brandeis University in Massachusetts, said in an article in the US “Foreign Affairs” magazine that after years of worrying about the terrorist lone wolf, it appears that the dangerous terrorists indeed cannot be separated. Understanding why suicide-bombers are ready to attack and kill at random in a small neighborhood can be understood through looking at the terrorist threat as a social virus that spreads through a complicated infection process.

“Dangerous terrorists cannot be separated.”

Is this really true?

It is certain that lone wolves receive direct instructions and this was revealed by a 2015 ISIS pamphlet called, “The Lone Wolf Strategy.” In it, the author, “Abou Anas al-Andalusi,” hails ISIS member Mohammed Merah, who committed the 2012 Toulouse attack. He said that Merah was not really a lone wolf, but a member of an extremist group called “Jund al-Khalifa.”

Given this reality, we should now ask how can we deal with the lone wolf phenomenon and avoid it in the future?



Sweida’s Druze, Bedouin Tribes Locked in Historic Grievances

Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
TT
20

Sweida’s Druze, Bedouin Tribes Locked in Historic Grievances

Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)

Sweida, a province in southern Syria, is teetering on the brink after days of deadly violence and clashes between local communities and government security forces, an unrest that signals deeper turmoil across the war-battered country.

The latest flare-up has laid bare tensions that go beyond the provincial borders, raising concerns about the future of coexistence and civil peace in a region long known for its rich tapestry of religious, social, and cultural diversity.

While the Syrian government in Damascus seeks to reassert control over all of its territory, local groups are renewing calls for greater recognition of their rights and “distinct identity.” The result is a fragile and combustible equation in a strategically vital region.

Sweida has long been a flashpoint, shaped by decades of uneasy relations between Druze communities and neighboring Bedouin tribes. That legacy of mistrust now intersects with a crumbling economy, a lack of essential services, the rise of armed factions, and a newly entrenched central authority in Damascus, factors that together threaten to turn the province into a flashpoint for wider instability.

Competing narratives have further muddied the waters, with each side offering starkly different versions of recent events, accounts that are often shaped not just by what happened in the past few days, but by long-standing grievances and buried animosities. The deepening rift and absence of trust among local communities highlight just how far Syria remains from reconciliation.

As pressure builds, observers warn that without a sustainable political solution that acknowledges local demands while maintaining national cohesion, Sweida may be a harbinger of further unrest in Syria’s uncertain future.

Power Struggles and Fractured Alliances

In Syria’s Sweida, power is fragmented among a complex web of religious authorities, influential families, and rival armed factions, a fractured landscape that reflects the broader divisions tearing at the country.

Local leadership is split between traditional Druze clerical authorities and prominent families, each with their own loyalties and varying degrees of influence on the ground. Political rivalries run deep, and military factions are equally divided, some aligning with the government in Damascus, while others openly challenge it.

Among the most prominent pro-government groups is the “Madafat al-Karama” faction led by Laith al-Balous, son of the late Druze leader Sheikh Wahid al-Balous. He is seen as a key ally of Damascus, alongside Suleiman Abdel-Baqi, commander of the “Ahrar Jabal al-Arab” group.

On the opposing side are factions such as the “Military Council in Sweida” and “Liwa al-Jabal” (Mountain Brigade), which collectively field around 3,000 fighters. These groups are seen as aligned with the views of influential Druze spiritual leader Sheikh Hikmat al-Hijri, who has been increasingly critical of the central government.

A newer alliance has also emerged under the banner of “Counter-Terrorism Forces” or the “Syrian Brigade Party,” bringing together factions such as “Dir’ al-Tawhid,” “Forces of Al-Ulya,” “Sheikh al-Karama,” “Saraya al-Jabal,” and “Jaysh al-Muwahideen.” This coalition formally severed ties with Damascus following Sheikh Hijri’s speech on July 15, in which he rejected the government’s announcement of a ceasefire agreement with local notables.

Also active in the province is the “Men of Dignity Movement,” a relatively large faction led by Abu Hassan Yehya al-Hajjar. Though not officially aligned with the new coalition, the group is also staunchly opposed to the Syrian government.

The growing number of factions and rival power centers has deepened instability in Sweida.

Bedouin Tribes in Sweida Say They Are Marginalized, Blamed and Forgotten

Even after government forces withdrew and a fragile ceasefire took hold in Sweida, clashes reignited, this time between Druze residents and Bedouin tribes, underscoring the deep and historical grievances simmering beneath the surface of the country’s sectarian fault lines.

The Bedouin, who see themselves as long-marginalized stakeholders in the region, say they have been caught in the crossfire - blamed for violence they did not initiate and excluded from political life and public services.

“We are the perpetual scapegoats,” said Mohammad Abu Thulaith, a lawyer and member of the Sweida Tribal Council. A descendant of one of the Bedouin tribes long at odds with the Druze population, he told Asharq Al-Awsat that “Bedouins are the weakest link in the local power struggle.”

The sense of injustice voiced by Abu Thulaith runs deep and is rooted in historical narratives. According to his account, the Druze - who migrated to the Jabal al-Arab area around two centuries ago - gradually expanded their influence, curbing the pastoral livelihoods of the Bedouin, particularly livestock herding. This, he said, led to the forced migration of nearly half of the Bedouin tribes from the mountain region toward Jordan, rural Damascus, and Daraa.

He cited the example of Saad Hayel al-Surour, a former speaker of the Jordanian parliament, who remains a Syrian citizen to this day. His father, Hayel al-Surour, once headed the Syrian parliament before the 1958 union between Syria and Egypt.

Many in the Bedouin community consider themselves the original inhabitants of the land, victims of what they describe as “a prolonged injustice” that denied them citizenship rights, political representation, and even basic services.

Abu Thulaith argues that the source of current tensions must be addressed at its roots. “We are blamed because the other side does not dare confront the real actors behind the violence,” he said, referring to armed groups operating in the area.

He called on the Druze tribal leadership - often referred to as “the people of the mountain” - to assume responsibility for protecting the Bedouin community and ending decades of exclusion. “We’ve suffered from a double injustice,” he said. “One at the hands of the Assad regime and Baathist rule, and the other from our neighbors. We have no access to employment, no political representation, and we’re deprived of the most basic public services.”

Despite the mounting frustration, Abu Thulaith insists that the Bedouin do not seek confrontation. “We don’t have the means to fight,” he said. “All we want is to live in peace with our neighbors. No one can erase the other. Since the fall of the former regime, tribal communities have hoped the state would step in to offer protection and ensure the most basic rights.”

As tensions in Sweida continue to spiral, voices like Abu Thulaith’s are demanding a deeper national conversation about identity, land, and the future of Jabal al-Arab - one that addresses long-neglected wounds before they erupt into further conflict.

Druze Grapple with a Perpetual Identity Crisis

For Syria’s Druze minority, identity is not just a question of culture or belief, it is a matter of survival. That fear of erasure has long shaped their political instincts, social structures, and geographic presence in the country.

“The Druze, like many minorities, live with a constant sense of threat,” said Khaldoun Al-Nabbouani, a professor of political philosophy at the University of Paris and a native of Sweida. “This persistent anxiety drives them to close ranks around their identity in a collective effort of self-preservation.”

Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, Al-Nabbouani explained that the community’s inward turn is not only symbolic or cultural - it also manifests demographically. “Just as the Alawites are concentrated in the coastal mountains, the Druze have built their stronghold in Jabal al-Arab. It reflects a broader pattern among minorities to cluster in specific regions where they can reinforce their social cohesion and safeguard a perpetually anxious identity.”

That reflex dates back centuries. The very formation of the Druze sect, he said, was a political and cultural rebellion against traditional Islam. “Since its inception, the community has developed a deep need for internal solidarity and social insulation,” he said. “Even today, that’s visible in things like marriage practices - interfaith unions remain extremely rare.”

This insularity, he noted, extends to the political realm. The community has historically resisted the appointment of governors or officials from outside the Druze fold, a trend dating back to the 1930s and continuing into recent decades. One of the more controversial examples was the appointment of a non-Druze governor under the government of Ahmad Al-Sharaa, which sparked uproar, resignation, and a political standoff before the governor ultimately returned.

Tensions between the Druze and the central government are nothing new. Under President Adib Shishakli in the early 1950s, relations with Damascus deteriorated sharply. Shishakli accused the Druze of plotting against the state and in 1954 ordered artillery strikes on Jabal al-Arab, an assault that killed civilians, displaced families, and left deep scars that still echo in local memory.

When the Baath Party seized power in 1963, Damascus shifted tactics, pursuing what Al-Nabbouani described as a policy of “soft containment.” Symbolic appointments of Druze figures to government positions were coupled with tight security oversight in Sweida, a strategy aimed at managing rather than integrating the province.

As new waves of unrest ripple through southern Syria, the Druze community once again finds itself wrestling with existential questions caught between historical trauma, present instability, and an uncertain future.