Hello and welcome back!
Today, I want to wrap up my mini-series on ‘how to start an insurgency.’ This week, the focus is oriented towards how small groups can take advantage of state weakness and, over time, coalesce into a more sustained form of resistance. There will be some overlap with the dynamics already discussed in the series, but the macro processes are very different. And this time — no points for guessing! — it will be Dagestan that takes centre stage.
As such, this week, I’ll look at:
- How armed struggle spread across Dagestan
- The damaging consequences of prioritising control over legitimacy
- The risk of pockets of resistance emerging
But before I do, important announcement time: You can now get 30% off my book, The Caucasus Emirate: Ideology, Identity, and Insurgency in Russia’s North Caucasus. All you have to do is order through the Manchester University Press website and enter the code EVENT30. Go on, you know you want to…
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How armed struggle spread across Dagestan
Dagestan played a prominent role in the history of the North Caucasus insurgency. As was true of individuals from across the region, Dagestanis fought in the First Chechen War, and it was the Chechen rebel invasion of Dagestan — ostensibly in support of radical groups there — that triggered the second war. Dagestanis also influenced the ideological transformation of armed struggle across the region. But how did an indigenous insurgency emerge in Dagestan itself?
The post-Soviet religious revival manifested itself particularly strongly in Dagestan, where Islam had its oldest historical roots. Religion, moreover, held much greater potential for unifying groups than did nationalism, given the republic’s remarkable ethnic diversity. Islam’s growing popularity made it an attractive tool for political actors of all stripes, who sought to exploit religion’s mobilising and legitimising potential.
Alongside ‘traditional’ Sufi practices, throughout the 1990s Dagestan witnessed a growth in support for more puritanical Salafi ideas. The first Salafi groups had emerged already in the late Soviet period, and their ideas of egalitarianism and social justice enjoyed strong appeal, given the prevailing socio-economic collapse, government ineffectiveness, and corruption of the time.
Most Salafi communities initially advanced a peaceful agenda. However, they found themselves drawn into increasingly conflictual relations with the authorities. Some groups increasingly distanced themselves from the state, and some enjoyed close relations with rebel groups across the border in Chechnya. One of the most notable developments was the creation of the Kadar Zone, a triangle of three villages that sought to implement their own understanding of Sharia law, outside of the control of the Dagestani state.
Scholars differ in their understanding of how the overlapping processes of state weakness, growing Salafism, and conflict overspill led to the emergence of an insurgency within Dagestan itself. Some see it beginning as early as 1999, while others place the date as late as 2004. Various small armed groups emerged within that time period, and major terrorist attacks took place within Dagestan itself. Yet from 2003 onwards, some Islamist groups became locked in a cycle of violence and retaliation with the local security services and by, 2005, the emergence of a distinct local insurgency was irrefutable.
The damaging consequences of prioritising control over legitimacy
The mistakes made by both the federal and Dagestani authorities that led to the emergence of insurgency mirrored those that I’ve mapped in the other parts of the series, even if the way in which they coalesced resulted in a very different overall picture.
First, we can point to the breakdown of state authority. In Ingushetia, this resulted from the near-total collapse of law and order across the entire republic. In Dagestan, this was much more localised, with specific areas – like the Kadar Zone – largely escaping state control. This left areas where groups ill-disposed to the authorities could establish a degree of territorial control and use as a base.
Second, there was the cooptation of the religious authorities – although which direction this cooptation flowed is an interesting question. As in Kabardino-Balkaria, the authorities sought to establish a monopoly on religious life through the local spiritual board (DUM) and to draw local Sufi leaders into political alliances. At the same time, the disciples of Sufi leader Said Afandi al-Chirkawi (Said Atsayev) in particular were heavily represented in official power structures, including the local Interior Ministry and the DUM, and used those state structures to advance their own interests and persecute opponents.
Third, there was a failure to differentiate between violent and non-violent forms of opposition. In Dagestan, strands of Salafism were in competition. One, led by Akhmat-qadi Akhtayev, sought peaceful accommodation with Russia. Another, led by Bagaudin Magomedov, called for the establishment of an Islamic state in the Caucasus and enjoyed strong ties to Chechen rebels. The authorities treated these strands as one and the same, and a local law banned ‘Wahhabism’ as a catch-all for all forms of unsanctioned religion without bothering to define the term.
The cumulative effect was to strengthen the position of the more radical groups that operated in the republic. Over time, the links with the Islamist wing of the Chechen insurgency became stronger and the ideological agendas more closely aligned. Akhtayev’s sudden death in 1998 had also critically weakened the peaceful strand of Salafism. Rather than the wholesale migration underground of one group that was seen in Kabardino-Balkaria, Dagestan witnessed the gradual merging of different groups under a common umbrella. The different dates of origin for an indigenous insurgency partially reflect different assessments of when those processes of consolidation reached a critical point.
The risk of pockets of resistance emerging
Some of the lessons for today that Dagestan’s experience offer are the same as for elsewhere. The authorities’ refusal to countenance anything that challenged their power, the cooptation of religious authorities to support the state, and the refusal to differentiate between violent and nonviolent resistance can all contribute to radicalisation and destabilisation.
Another lesson, however, is more specific to the Dagestani case: The dangers of losing control at a very local level. Radical groups were able to take advantage of places where state actors were absent and regarded with (often justified) suspicion. A territorial base, in turn, provided a platform that the groups could use to expand their influence. A key indicator that large-scale insurgency could emerge is therefore the emergence of much more localised pockets of resistance — which can then coalesce into something more sustained.
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