Good Muslim, Bad Muslim: America, the Cold War, and the Roots of Terror

Mahmood Mamdani

57 pages 1-hour read

Mahmood Mamdani

Good Muslim, Bad Muslim: America, the Cold War, and the Roots of Terror

Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2005

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Introduction-Chapter 1Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Introduction Summary: “Modernity and Violence”

In the introduction, Mamdani explores the intertwined histories of political violence, modern state formation, colonialism, and terrorism, arguing that to understand events like 9/11, one must look beyond cultural essentialism and instead examine historical and political contexts, especially the legacy of Western imperialism and Cold War politics. Mamdani begins by asserting that the twentieth century was a “century of violence” (3), characterized by global wars, revolutions, and genocides. Modern sensibilities often accept violence if it serves historical progress, a tendency rooted in the legacy of the French Revolution. Violence has been treated as the “midwife of history” (3)—the force that makes progress possible. What unsettles the modern mind is not violence itself but violence perceived as senseless, such as terrorism or genocide. These acts of “senseless” violence—violence not directly tied to the formation or preservation of states or empires—often elicit explanations grounded in culture or evil rather than historical causality.


This reluctance to historicize violence, Mamdani argues, hinders a true understanding of modern political violence, particularly when it does not align with narratives of progress. Violence in the “uncivilized” (7) world is explained through “culture talk” (11), a framing that portrays political conflict in non-Western societies as tribal, ethnic, or religious rather than political. For modern societies, acts like the Holocaust are often attributed to evil, erasing historical context and avoiding deeper political reflection. Tracing the roots of modern political violence, Mamdani turns to 1492, a pivotal year marking both the Renaissance and the dawn of imperial expansion. The birth of the nation-state was accompanied by acts of ethnic cleansing, such as the expulsion of Jews and Muslims from Spain. Max Weber’s analysis of modernity as a monopoly of violence under the centralized state is central to Mamdani’s argument, as Mamdani emphasizes that the history of modernity is also a history of racism and genocide, particularly in the colonies. The Holocaust, he argues, should be viewed within this broader context of colonial genocides.


Citing the German American political philosopher Hannah Arendt, Mamdani notes that racism and bureaucratic governance were tools honed during imperial conquests. However, Arendt’s analysis neglected the earlier genocides in the Americas. The annihilation of Indigenous populations, the Herero genocide in Namibia, and similar colonial atrocities prefigured the Holocaust. Mamdani then explores the moral complexity of resistance through the lens of psychiatrist and anti-colonial theorist Frantz Fanon. Often mischaracterized as a prophet of violence, Fanon instead viewed violence as the inevitable response to a violently imposed colonial order. Mamdani highlights Fanon’s insight that the colonized become violent not out of barbarism but in reclaiming agency and humanity: According to Fanon, the colonized man liberates himself in and through violence. This reversal raises profound questions about justice, revenge, and fear among former colonizers.


After 9/11, Mamdani noticed parallels between America’s cultural framing of terrorism and earlier colonial discourses. American responses, often informed more by Holocaust memory than geopolitical understanding, led to a moral binary between “good Muslims [and] bad Muslims” (15). President Bush’s rhetoric demanded Muslims prove their loyalty, making Muslim identity itself a political category, much as happened to Jews in modern Europe. Mamdani critiques this reductionist view, insisting that no such clean division between good and bad exists in any religious group. The “failure” (16) to analyze the political roots of terrorism results in missed opportunities for genuine understanding and policy change. Mamdani argues that 9/11 was not a civilizational clash but a product of the late Cold War, when the US, especially under Reagan, supported proxy wars and political terror, including the very Islamist forces that would later turn against it. To Mamdani, 9/11 is a consequence of the Cold War.

Chapter 1 Summary: “Culture Talk; or, How Not to Talk About Islam and Politics”

In the post-Cold War era, the world has seen the ascendancy of what Mamdani calls Culture Talk, a discourse that treats culture not as dynamic or historical but as static—rooted in the supposedly timeless, essential characteristics of a people. Unlike the Cold War’s focus on political ideologies like capitalism and communism, the global discourse after 9/11 explains political phenomena—and particularly terrorism—through cultural identities, especially Islam. Culture is no longer social and lived, but politicized and generalized, delivered in “large geo-packages” (17).


Culture Talk explains politics by assuming that each culture possesses a distinct and unchanging essence. In the aftermath of 9/11, this thinking labeled terrorism as intrinsically “Islamic” (17), obscuring political causes and instead attributing violence to Islamic culture. The narrative shifted from capitalism versus communism to modernity versus premodernity. The modern West became the maker of culture, while Muslim societies were portrayed as static relics of a founding moment, incapable of evolution, existing in the “lifeless custom of an antique people” (18). Mamdani identifies two versions of Culture Talk: one views non-modern societies as lagging behind modernity, inspiring philanthropic or humanitarian engagement; the other sees them as anti-modern, requiring containment or military suppression. Islam, particularly after 9/11, is portrayed in the latter way: as a civilizational threat. This thinking builds on earlier colonial discourses that explained violence in Africa or other parts of the Global South in cultural rather than political terms.


The intellectual foundations of this post-Cold War Culture Talk can be traced to Bernard Lewis and Samuel Huntington. Lewis’s 1990 article The Roots of Muslim Rage introduced the idea of a civilizational conflict between the Islamic world and the West. Huntington expanded it into his 1993 article The Clash of Civilizations? which claimed that future global conflicts would be cultural rather than ideological. Huntington designated Islam as the most dangerous “enemy civilization” (21). In this framework, Muslims were not just foreign but alien in a civilizational sense, potentially hostile, and resistant to secular modernity. Critics such as Edward Said counter that these models ignore history and internal diversity within civilizations. Said argued that real conflict happens “inside civilizations” (22) not merely between them. Lewis, more nuanced than Huntington, acknowledged internal Muslim debates but still essentialized Islam as prone to violence in moments of crisis. He viewed Islam as a static culture, incompatible with freedom and secularism, two pillars of Western modernity.


The idea of distinguishing “good Muslims” from “bad Muslims” took root in American foreign policy, with figures like President Bush and Prime Minister Blair cautioning against blaming all Muslims while simultaneously promoting a war within Islam to purify it. This division constructs Muslim identity as a political category and promotes intervention under the guise of helping “good” Muslims overcome “bad” ones. Islam becomes quarantined, marked for internal cleansing. While thinkers such as Marshall Hodgson, Cheikh Anta Diop, and Martin Bernal had successfully challenged Eurocentric views of history by the late 20th century, Orientalist frameworks were revived in post-9/11 discourse. These frameworks continue to map the world in ways that exaggerate Western centrality. This mapping occurs both figuratively and literally: The Mercator projection, the most common way of representing the globe in two dimensions, distorts geographic scale to privilege Europe and the US while pushing the Orient to the “periphery” (28).


Culture Talk assumes history to be the story of self-contained civilizations marching through time. Yet historical examples reveal complex cultural exchanges. Mamdani shows how Jewish culture in medieval Spain was more “Arab-Jewish” than “Judeo-Christian,” disrupting narratives of fixed civilizational blocs. Even the term “Judeo-Christian” is a post-Holocaust invention designed as an “antidote to anti-Semitism” (36). Likewise, “Arab” and “Berber” became politically charged identities in colonial North Africa through legal and administrative distinctions imposed by the French. These observations underscore Mamdani’s main argument: cultural identities are often politically constructed. For example, in Sudan’s civil war, the conflict was framed as “Arab” North versus “African” South, though intellectuals later emphasized the integrative, Afro-Arab nature of Sudanese culture. The aftermath of civil conflict demands new histories, but those are often unavailable due to entrenched political interests.


Even when fundamentalist movements claim to recover a “true” or “original” culture, they are inherently political and historical, not essential or timeless. Mamdani distinguishes between religious fundamentalism, political religion (such as political Islam or Christianity), and terrorism. Christian fundamentalism in the US, he notes, arose as a modern reaction to secularism, not as a throwback to a premodern era. Similarly, political Islam is a product of modern political conflicts and interactions with Western power, not simply a return to ancient texts. Mamdani draws attention to key figures in political Islam. Jamal al-Din al-Afghani, for instance, defended Islam’s rational capacity for science against Western claims of cultural stagnation. Later thinkers like Muhammad Iqbal and Mohammed Ali Jinnah envisioned Islam as a cultural, not necessarily theocratic, identity. The turn toward radicalism came with figures like Sayyid Qutb and Abul A’la Mawdudi. Mawdudi, in particular, “radically reformulated” (50) the term jihad as a political struggle for state power, equating Islam with ideologies like Communism. Qutb, influenced by Marxism-Leninism, focused more on society and saw jihad as both spiritual and political, rooted in opposition to unjust rule.


Throughout Islamic history, jihad has often been invoked during crises, but not as a permanent doctrine of violence. It has had both defensive and reformist interpretations. Mamdani stresses that political Islam is diverse: some movements seek reform within existing political systems, while others aim to seize state power. Only the latter have been associated with political terror. Mamdani argues that terrorism is not a cultural residue but a political outcome—a response to historical events, particularly the Cold War. The radicalization of political Islam and its embrace of violence stem from political conditions, not from Islam’s doctrinal core. By reducing terrorism to culture, the West avoids responsibility for its own role in shaping these political encounters. To move forward, society must abandon Culture Talk and engage with the historical and political roots of violence.

Introduction-Chapter 1 Analysis

In Good Muslim, Bad Muslim, Mahmood Mamdani explores US government and media understandings of Islam and the Muslims who practice it in the post-9/11 world. Mamdani’s central thesis is expressed succinctly in the book’s title: The US constructs a binary opposition between “good Muslims”—those who support US interests—and “bad Muslims”—those who in any way oppose US intervention in the Arab and Muslim worlds. This interest in The Construction and Consequences of the Good Muslim/Bad Muslim Binary is the book’s central theme. In this first section, Mamdani explores this theme primarily by examining how US political leaders and media understand the concept of jihad. The Arabic word has no direct translation into English, Mamdani believes. The concept of jihad is nuanced and complicated, rife with historical context. Mamdani cites the four historical jihads in the era before the politicalization of Islam to illustrate the context-dependent meaning of the concept. Furthermore, Mamdani explains that jihad is not just an external call to arms; al-jihad al-akbar (the greater jihad), he explains, is actually a metaphysical struggle to be a better Muslim, something entirely separate from the way in which the word is treated in the English language, as the equivalent of crusade or holy war. Mamdani draws attention to these lost-in-translation subtleties to exemplify the way in which Islam is unilaterally politicized. A complex and nuanced subject, such as jihad, was politicized during the Reagan and Bush administrations, first as a rallying cry against the Soviets in Afghanistan and then as justification for the American wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Accuracy or understanding gives way to the political utility that derives from flattening the nuance of the word. A core focus of the book is in noting how Islam—and the Arabic language—is denied the opportunity to speak on its own terms; meaning and intent is projected onto a newly-politicized Islam by the American state.


Mamdani points out a hypocritical irony in American media’s treatment of Islam: Bush administration figures and media figures in the post-9/11 era routinely decried the evils of “Islamic fundamentalism,” but Mamdani notes that fundamentalism is by no means alien to American culture. Fundamentalist Christians such as Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell were (in the 1980s) an essential part of the American political landscape. Later in the book, Mamdani explores the connections between the Christian right and US foreign policy in greater detail. In the opening chapters, however, he focuses on the use of the term to strip Muslims of agency, noting that the term is not applied in this way to Christians in America. By reductively labeling contemporary Muslim terrorists or states “fundamentalist,” the American perspective reduces their capacity for reasoned critique. 


These early chapters demonstrate an abiding interest in the politics of language: Through the deliberate misapplication of terms like jihad and fundamentalism, Mamdani argues that the American political apparatus strives to deny to Muslims the agency and capacity for profound thought assumed of non-Muslim Americans or Westerners. This process otherizes Muslims, denying them the same allowances, expectations, indulgences, tolerance, and understanding that are afforded to non-Muslim Americans. In order to combat this, Mamdani cites academic thinkers who have their roots in the struggle for freedom from colonial powers. In response to American neoconservative voices who criticize Islam and otherize Muslims, Mamdani cites figures such as Frantz Fanon and Edward Said, who critique American colonialism from the perspective of the colonized. Said and Fanon’s arguments are not only given equal weight in an academic context, but their analysis is shown to be more insightful, more relevant, and less informed by political convenience. As American academics and critics politicize Islam, Mamdani suggests, the same can be done to the American culture. Mamdani uses postcolonial scholarship and theory to reverse the mirror, reflecting the politicization projected by the American state back at America itself.

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