Egypt’s ongoing battle against militant violence, particularly in the Sinai Peninsula, reveals a complex interplay of historical neglect, misguided policies, and escalating violence. The rise of ISIS in Sinai is not an isolated event but rather the outcome of decades of marginalisation, state violence, and failed development promises. This essay delves into the root causes and recent developments that have turned Sinai into a hotbed of militant activity, culminating in tragedies like the al-Rawada Mosque bombing. By examining the historical context and state responses, this essay seeks to unravel how Egypt’s approach to counterterrorism might be exacerbating the very problem it aims to solve.
During Friday prayers on 24 November 2017, Egypt witnessed a massacre of more than 300 civilians and dozens of injuries in what appears to have been a well-planned bomb and gun attack on al-Rawadavillage mosque in Beir al-Abed district near al-Arish, the capital of North Sinai. This assault is not the first of its kind but is the deadliest in Egypt’s recent history in terms of casualties. The ‘Islamic State’ (ISIS) militant group has yet to claim responsibility for the operation, but their fingerprints are unmistakable: the nature of the target, the location, and the scale of the assault all point towards their involvement.
Unlike other groups such as al-Qaeda, which primarily target military and police forces, ISIS, through its local affiliate Wilayat Sinai (Sinai Province), is known for attacking civilians and state troops indiscriminately. However, among civilians, the group shows a marked preference for targeting Copts and Sufi Muslims. Al-RawadaMosque, located in the territories of the pro-military al-Sawarka tribe, is a Sufi mosque, making it an especially valuable target for the group to attack.
Wilayat Sinai is the strongest, best-trained, and apparently wealthiest Islamist militant group in the province. Since the group declared its annexation to the then-newly-founded Islamic State in Iraq and Syria in 2014, it has carried out highly organised operations against Egyptian military, police, and civilian targets, inflicting significant pain on both the Egyptian state and its people. Between 2013 and 2017, nearly 1,000 security personnel have been killed in more than 1,700 attacks across Egypt’s restive Sinai Peninsula, with more than 200 security personnel killed this year alone.
The Egyptian state has not been idle in response to this escalation. On the contrary, a state of emergency has been in place in Sinai since October 2014; numerous ‘anti-terrorism’ laws have been passed; and the Egyptian army, in cooperation with police forces, is employing what they deem the best strategies to combat the group in the Sinai Peninsula. However, so far, there are no signs of success for the Egyptian military. Worse still, Egypt has just witnessed its worst civilian casualties in a single attack in its modern history.
Strategic Reflections on Sinai Violence
Strategically speaking, it is important to understand how this operation and earlier ones took place. But equally important, if not more so, is the need, for once, to ask the very urgent ‘why?’ question. To stop this bloodbath, I first need to understand the reasons behind it. Why are the Sinai militant attacks on the rise, despite heavy military operations by the Egyptian army since 2014? Is violence a recent phenomenon in the peninsula, or does it have deeper roots there?
To answer these correlated questions, I must examine one old, major element of the foundation of violence in Sinai, and two specific recent escalations that led to today’s highly complex situation on the ground.
The foundation of violence in Sinai dates back to the two decades following the October War in 1973 and the subsequent return by Israel of the peninsula to Egypt piece by piece. In the 1980s, the state made several promises of investment for development, none of which were fulfilled. In the mid-1990s, a new wave of development promises emerged from Cairo and were met when Sinai became a hub for mega-tourist investments. However, none of these benefitted the peninsula’s marginalised population. Large areas, historically owned by the Bedouins, were taken from them by force and given to Mubarak’s business elite. The most significant ‘developmental’ change I can document is the opening of a window for locals to provide camel rides to tourists and play the exotic subjects in their photographs.
Credit should be given to the marginalised Bedouins of Sinai, who rejected the radical ideas and violence preached by the Mujahideen returning from Afghanistan in the 1990s. At the time, radicalisation and violence were hitting hard in the rest of Egypt, as the returnees successfully recruited combatants among the Nile population. Sinai remained safe from that chaos.
The first escalation only came after the unfortunate Taba bombings on the Red Sea coast in 2004, after which radicalisation began in Sinai. Although the operation was found to be an al-Qaeda one planned from abroad, Mubarak’s security apparatus persecuted, tortured, and even murdered members of the Bedouin tribes in a lawless show of excessive power. This marked the beginning of success for militant elements from the Nile Valley and abroad seeking a hideout in the poor and geographically complex central and northern regions of the peninsula.
Mubarak’s apparatus brought the Nile Valley’s security culture and practices and imposed them on the Bedouins. The urban dictatorship extended from the Nile banks into tribal territories in the desert, introducing the peaceful locals to state violence, torture, and murder under the guise of emergency law and ‘fighting terrorism’. This was an act of dehumanisation, whose consequences no one could afford, neither then nor now.
Post-Coup Repression and Escalation
Following the short-lived 2011 revolution that brought down Mubarak’s tyranny, the 2013 military coup deposed the Muslim Brotherhood president Mohamed Morsi with popular support. Since then, Egypt has been living under the most repressive regime in its modern history. The country is now one of the world’s top jailers of journalists and political opponents. In line with this severe repression and state violence, Sinai witnessed a second and much bigger escalation of violence than in the aftermath of the 2004 bombings.
This escalation is linked to changes on the ground since 2014, following a costly and bloody attack by Wilayat Sinai, which claimed the lives of more than 30 soldiers. Under the protection of the emergency state then reinstated, the army and police forces significantly intensified their operations in the peninsula, particularly in North Sinai, accompanied by a media blackout. To this day, the media cannot investigate or even superficially cover what is happening in these military operations and are restricted to reporting based on military statements. However, in the age of social media, a media gag is nothing more than a poorly conceived tactic from a pre-internet world. Graphic videos of army and police violence against ordinary civilians in Sinai have been widely shared on platforms like YouTube and other networks. These videos quickly became effective material for ISIS recruitment propaganda. Although major social media platforms recently began banning graphic content, the damage was already done. From Friday’s massacre and earlier attacks, it is evident that despite intensified military operations, ISIS is only growing stronger.
The state’s war against militant groups in Sinai, and other parts of the country, should not only be viewed from a military perspective. Military operations carried out without the rule of law, human rights, respect for local populations, transparency, and media access serve as ideal material for militant recruitment.
A few hours after the massacre, the Union of Sinai Tribes issued a statement in solidarity with the al-Sawarka tribe, on whose territories the attacked mosque is located. The statement declared: “No condolences will be accepted for the victims of this attack until vengeance from these Takfiris is achieved. We will kill you without mercy. And I don’t have trials or prisons for you.” The participation of locals in the fight against Wilayat Sinai should not lead to the lawless retribution implied by this tribal union statement. If the Egyptian state continues to allow such lawlessness in its military operations, this could spark a militia war, in which no one will emerge victorious. Mubarak’s bloody snowball, which received a significant boost under al-Sisi, will only grow larger.
Conclusion
Egypt’s counterterrorism strategy in Sinai has so far deepened the very crises it seeks to resolve, perpetuating cycles of repression, violence, and radicalisation. This essay has examined how decades of neglect, compounded by brutal state practices and exclusionary policies, have created fertile ground for militant violence. Al-Rawada Mosque bombing stands as a tragic symbol of the consequences of these flawed approaches, illustrating the dangerous intersection of failed development and indiscriminate state violence.
While military operations remain central to Egypt’s approach, they continue to fall short without addressing the root causes of instability in Sinai. The exclusion of local populations from decision-making processes, the erosion of trust between the state and the Bedouins, and the absence of transparency in governance have further alienated communities and inadvertently strengthened the militants’ narrative. As graphic evidence of violence spreads online, these failures fuel recruitment for ISIS and deepen the divide between the state and its citizens.
A sustainable solution requires Egypt to break away from its militarised mindset and embrace policies rooted in justice, development, and inclusion. Investing in Sinai’s infrastructure, empowering its marginalised communities, and ensuring accountability in security operations are vital steps toward lasting peace. If Egypt continues its current trajectory, it risks escalating violence and fostering an enduring insurgency that will threaten the region for generations to come. Sinai’s future depends on a decisive shift from blind force to justice, from repression to reconciliation.
This essay is originally published by TIMEP Europe.