The Islam–Islamism Trap: The Case of Jomana Qaddour

Hours ago,Amy Mek, the founder of the RAIR Foundation, a conservative outlet known for its hard-hitting critique of Islam, posted a scathing exposé on X. Her target was Jomana Qaddour, a Senior Syria Advisor at the U.S. State Department. Mek accused Qaddour of being a “Muslim Brotherhood mole,” citing her education at an Islamic school linked to Brotherhood figures, her father’s long tenure as treasurer of the Muslim American Society (MAS), a Muslim Brotherhood offshoot, and Qaddour’s own past appearances at MAS events and fundraisers tied to pro-Palestinian causes.

Mek’s post quickly went viral. She framed Qaddour’s role in shaping U.S. policy toward post-Assad Syria as a glaring example of “civilization jihad,” the Muslim Brotherhood’s strategy of infiltrating Western institutions to undermine them from within.

Professor Gad Saad (@GadSaad) quote-tweeted Mek’s post with a succinct endorsement: “It truly is unbelievable.” However, two experts affiliated with the Foundation for Defense of Democracies (FDD), Hussain Abdul-Hussain (@hahussain) and David Daoud (@DavidADaoud), replied directly to Saad’s tweet. They urged him to “take this down,” describing Qaddour as “a good friend, as patriotic an American as you can find, a loyal and committed public servant, and a genuine philosemite,” while accusing Mek of “slander.”

Egyptian-American writer Hussein Abubaker Mansour (@HusseinAboubak) quote-tweeted Mek’s original post and called it “false and slanderous,” defending Qaddour as a personal friend who is “patriotic” and holds “opinions that every decent American has.” Mansour also noted that Qaddour no longer wears the hijab and accused Mek of using “old pictures” for “ragebait anti-Muslim slop,” labeling the tactic “wrong and vile behavior.”

This exchange encapsulates a deeper rift in the ongoing battle against political Islam. On one hand, we know that Islam is not a private faith but an inherently political ideology, with expansionist ambitions embedded in its foundational texts and history. From this perspective, vigilance requires scrutinizing anyone with ties, however historical or familial, to Islamist networks, lest the West repeat the mistakes that allowed groups like the Muslim Brotherhood to embed themselves within democratic institutions.

On the other hand, we know that not everyone who identifies as a Muslim is an “Islamist,” and painting with too broad a brush is not fair to the hundreds of millions of people who are not actively working to establish the rule of Allah over the earth.

How do we confront an ideology that blurs the lines between religion and politics without collectively indicting its 1.8 billion adherents, most of whom do not actively pursue its more aggressive mandates?

I don’t know Jomana Qaddour personally, but I trust the judgment of figures like Abdul-Hussain, Mansour and Daoud, whose work has consistently exposed the dangers of Islamist groups. If they vouch for her as a “non-Muslim Muslim”, someone who identifies culturally with Islam but rejects its political ambitions, I’m inclined to believe them.

Yet Mek’s concerns aren’t baseless; the Muslim Brotherhood’s strategy of gradual infiltration is well-documented, from the 1991 Explanatory Memorandum unearthed in U.S. court documents to the ongoing activities of groups like MAS and the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR).

The question isn’t whether Qaddour is a threat, based on her defenders, she likely isn’t, but how we navigate a world where such ties are common among Muslims raised in certain communities.

The distinction between “Islam” and “Islamism”, coined to separate peaceful, cultural Muslims from those seeking to impose Sharia through political means, has become both a tool and a trap. It allows for targeted criticism but shields the core ideology from scrutiny, treating radicalism as an aberration rather than an integral thread.

This disparity among Muslims led to the creation of the Islam/Islamism dichotomy after 9/11. “Islamism” refers to the ideological pursuit of an Islamic state, often associated with groups like the Muslim Brotherhood, Hamas, or ISIS. It allowed Western leaders to say, “We are not at war with Islam, but with Islamism,” a distinction meant to avoid alienating non-Islamist Muslims and to build coalitions against terrorism.

However, this binary has unintended consequences. By treating Islamism as an “aberration,” it insulates mainstream Islam from critical examination. In reality, Islamism isn’t a distortion but a faithful application of Islamic texts. When we label the faithful to the canonical scripture as “Islamists” and the unfaithful as “Muslims,” we risk overlooking how the ideology permeates mosques, schools, and communities without overt extremism. For instance, MAS, which Mek cites, promotes “Islamic revival” through education and activism, often without violence but with the long-term goal of cultural dominance.

The Qaddour controversy exemplifies this pitfall. Her background, Islamic schooling, family ties to MAS, participation in pro-Palestinian events, raises red flags in a post October 7 world where such connections have led to real threats.

It is true that individuals grow, and the majority of muslims don’t participate in establishing the rule of Allah through infiltrating the western institutions, but how do we verify this for every Muslim in positions of influence?

Examining each individual separately is impractical in a diverse society of over 4 million American Muslims. Background checks exist for government roles, but they miss ideological nuances, especially when no laws are broken. The State Department’s vetting process focuses on criminal history and foreign contacts, not familial associations from childhood. This leaves room for infiltration, as seen in cases like Abdurahman Alamoudi, a Brotherhood-linked figure who advised the Pentagon before his 2004 terrorism conviction.

The solution, I believe, lies not in outsiders but within the Muslim community itself. Those who identify as Muslim but reject political Islam must stop defending the ideology wholesale. They can’t decry “Islamophobia” when critics point to Quran verses on jihad or Sharia’s incompatibility with democracy, then expect to be insulated from suspicion.

Too many Muslims reflexively shield Islam from scrutiny, equating it with attacks on their identity. This defensiveness perpetuates the problem: If Islam is untouchable, how can we address its political elements without implicating all adherents?

In my book, Islam, Israel, and the West, I explain how non-Muslim “Muslims” dismiss Islam’s foundational violent doctrines as “misinterpretations” without engaging the sources. They condemn terrorism while protecting its source. What complicates matters further is that Western progressives, in their zeal for multiculturalism, amplify this denial by labeling critics like Mek as bigots. The result? The political aspect of Islam hides behind the shield of religion, advancing unchecked.

To break this cycle, Muslims who want separation from political Islam must actively and publicly acknowledge the political nature of Islam and then explicitly reject Sharia’s political mandates, apostasy penalties, and jihad doctrines. They cannot deny that Islam is political, because that would be a lie, and then expect others not to tell the truth. They must partner with critics like Mek, not demonize them. They must call out radicals within their communities. Silence regarding groups like CAIR or MAS only enables their influence.

For non-Muslims, the approach should be discerning but firm. Vet individuals based on their actions, not their ancestry. Qaddour’s defenders attest to her loyalty, so perhaps she deserves the benefit of the doubt. But transparency must be demanded: if ties exist, they should be explained. Policies such as enhanced screening for Islamist affiliations in sensitive roles are not discriminatory, they are prudent.

Ultimately, this dilemma stems from Muslims’ denial of the political nature of Islam. Until Muslims collectively address it, controversies like Qaddour’s will continue to recur. We cannot examine every individual, but we can foster a culture in which political Islam is isolated rather than protected. As a former Muslim who broke free from its chains, I know change is possible, but it begins with honesty, not deflection.

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