Soon already, the Islamic State won’t be fashionable anymore…
The only active terrorist cell in Europe has been dismantled a long time ago by now – all the way to its peripheral circles; it was the one that had organised attacks on Paris and Brussels, the only large-scale attacks claimed by the IS in the West.
Since then, apart from the horrifying “stroke of luck” of one manipulated lost guy in Cannes, in France… nothing more that could look like an act of war… nowhere.
In Iraq, the last phase of the offensive launched in October 2016 to reconquer Mosul is rolling on and, although the Jihadists, often looking for martyrdom, make proof of furious resistance, the concentration of strength gathered around the city leaves them no chance to survive the assault.
In Syria also, the rope tightens around ar-Raqqa, the capital of the IS.
The Sunni dream of the Caliphate slowly collapses under the blows of the West, still triumphing over Islam, and drowns in the blood happily spilled by the Shiite militiamen of Iraq and Iran, keen to avenge the defeat of Kerbala (thirteen centuries ago). Then there is the laughter of the Ayatollahs of Tehran, the shouts of joy of the Kurds who do not yet know the horrors of the civil wars to come, and the cries of desperate souls that, as per usual, fill the dirty prisons of president Bashar al-Assad, who is back to business, strengthened and supported by the friendly Kremlin.
Maybe a commando squad of the American special forces will smoke the caliph Ibrahim out of the bottom of a hole, from which the Commander of the Believers will unceremoniously be extracted, with wild eyes, a stupid gaze, bristled hair and beard, exhausted and disappointed because the course of history never plays the absurd songs that do not correspond to the agendas of those who decide on the dominant geopolitical lines… and because the kingdom of God is not of this world.
Other times, other war, other ideological scenario, the same image of humiliation and sadness in the Arab world – subjected to the laws of the powerful.
Thus the Orient will soon find its quiet routine again: torture in the Syrian prisons, which reminds everybody that it is not allowed to think aloud; the Shiite army of Baghdad will restore its checkpoints in the districts of Mosul, Tikrit and Fallujah, where raggings and daily humiliations will start again as since 2003, and will carry on ruining the lives of the Sunnis of Iraq, interrupted by the unforgiving rhythm of suicide attacks.
Who believed, on a beautiful spring evening when the tepid air smelt so sweetly of soft jasmine, that the Arab world could ever escape the immutability of its deep nature, moulded by Islam and by cruelty?