SYRIA'S TWIN JIHAD

On both sides of the religious divide,
Lebanese militants have relied on similar
arguments to justify what they perceive as a
never-ending war of convictions, which poses
great dangers in a region where self-
identities are shaped by belief instead of
citizenship.
On this cold morning, a cortege of vehicles
headed by a car covered in coloured flower
arrangements drives through the busy streets
of Dahieh – a bastion of Shiite Hezbollah –
surrounded by militants carrying
Kalashnikovs.
Every few minutes, a staccato of gunfire is
followed by ululations, as men dressed in
fatigues wave the yellow banners of the Party
of God. "Labayka Ya Hussein", says one
militant, invoking Hussein whose martyrdom
is a widely spread symbol among Shiites.3
What appears like a wedding procession is in
fact the funeral of a Hezbollah fighter killed
in Syria.  Surprisingly, the funerals of Shiite
Hezbollah fighters bear a striking
resemblance to the "martyrs' weddings" of
Sunni jihadists organised in Palestinian
camps in Lebanon or Jordan, during which
confectionery and juices are generously
distributed.
The strong similarities between funeral
processions of Sunni and Shiite fighters killed
in Syria and staged as celebrations underline
the converging views on jihad of the two
groups, at odds since the beginning of the
Syria war in which Sunnis support the
rebellion and Shiites fight alongside the
regime of President Bachar Assad, a member
of the Alawite community, a Shiite sect.
For both Shiite and Sunni jihadists, the fight
in Syria was initially motivated by the desire
to protect their fellow coreligionists. "We
fight to defend the children and women being
slaughtered by the Assad regime," said Abu
Horeira, a Lebanese jihadist from Tripoli who
fought in Qussayr. In April 2013, Sayed
Hassan Nasrallah, Hezbollah's leader, relied
on a similar analogy, promising to defend the
Lebanese Shiite inhabitants of Al-Qusayr:
"We will not abandon the Lebanese residents
of Al-Qusayr."
As the battles in Syria increased in intensity,
the political discourse of jihadists in Lebanon
further polarised, with religious motivations
coming to the fore. "Religious arguments are
often used to appeal to the masses," says
Shiite cleric Sayed Hani Fahs.
Lebanese sheikhs on both sides of the divide
have relied on religious text to provide a
rationale for their call for Jihad, which is
mentioned over 150 times in the Quran, the
sacred book of both Sunnis and Shiites.
"Jihad in Syria is an obligation for all
Sunnis," said Salafi Sheikh Omar Bakri, in a
previous interview. While Hezbollah has not
officially called for jihad, fighters such as unit
commander Abou Ali have reported that
"everyone who goes to fight in Syria has
received a taklif sharii (a religious
command)."
Militants from the capital Beirut, the Bekaa
and Tripoli, both Shiites and Sunnis, have
answered the call to fight in Syria. "Early this
year, at least 100 ( Sunni) men from North
Lebanon were killed in Qalaat al Hosn, in
Homs," said a military source speaking on
condition of anonymity. They belonged to
Jund al Cham, an al-Qaeda style organisation.
On the other hand, security estimates point to
the involvement of over 5,000 Hezbollah
fighters in Syria. A source close to the
militant organisation believes that at least
500 of its members have been killed in Syria.
"My place is secured in heaven if I die ( in
Syria) and my family taken care of," says
Abou Ali, who has been deployed several
times in Qussayr, Qalamoun and Damascus.
Abou Ali , like many other fighters from
Hezbollah, argues that he is defending his
community, his religious beliefs and his sect's
dignity.
Sunni and Shiite religious narratives used in
the Syrian war are reminiscent of an enmity
over 14 centuries old. In several speeches,
Hezbollah figures have revived fears rooted
in the events that led to the Sunni/Muslim
schism, invoking the protection of Shiite
religious shrines, namely that of Sayyeda
Zeinab, to justify their involvement in Syria.
Zeinab was the daughter of Imam Ali, who is
revered by Shiites, and Fatima, who was the
daughter of prophet Muhammad.
"There is no better satisfaction than dying
fighting to protect the religious shrine of Sit
Zeynab," says another Hezbollah fighter on
condition of anonymity. This discourse has
been reinforced in many Shiite minds by
scenes of beheading perpetrated by rebel
groups.
In a recent interview with a Free Syria Army
fighter on the Lebanese border of the Syrian
Qalamoun region, the fighter , a secular man,
admitted that rebels often resorted to this
tactic to make "an example of traitors",
regardless of whether they belonged to
regime forces or to Hezbollah. For Shiites
nonetheless, these beheadings are a stark
reminder of the beheading of Hussein,
Zeinab's brother, during the Battle of
Karbala.
Religious ideology has served as a magnet for
both Shiite and Sunni fighters willing to give
up their life for the Syrian "religious" cause.
A recent report by the International Centre
for the Study of Radicalisation (ICSR) at
King's College in London put the number of
foreign Sunni jihadists at about 10,000. The
same can be said of Shiite fighters fuelling
the war in Syria, which has attracted Shiites
from Iraq, Lebanon and Yemen.
According to Michael Knights, an expert from
the Washington Institute for Near East Policy
(WINEP), a think tank that was spun off from
the American Israel Public Affairs Committee
(AIPAC), there are between 800 and 2,000
Iraqi Shiites in Syria which, including
Hezbollah, would put the number of Shiite
fighters at no less than 6,000 militants.
Armageddon ideology used in the Syria
conflict has fanned Shiite-Sunni fires in
Lebanon as well as across the region.
Reducing the conflict there to a battle within
Islam, as portrayed by jihadists on one side
and by Hezbollah on the other, could portend
a greater conflict that would wreak havoc in
region where the Muslim divide runs deep,
and religious identities prevail over
nationalism.