“Think about it. A hundred-year plan.”

Haras Rafiq believes Western governments are dealing with a political movement that has considerably more patience than they do.

Speaking to Visegrad24 founder Stefan Tompson in Cambridge, the British-Pakistani counter-extremism expert and former Quilliam International chief executive describes Islamist organisations spending decades building relationships, securing funding and establishing themselves within Western institutions.

His concern is how far that work has advanced while governments have alternated between challenging these organisations and welcoming them back.

Islam and Islamism

Rafiq begins by explaining what he means by Islamism, tracing its modern political roots to the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Jamaat-e-Islami in the Indian subcontinent. In his account, the ambition is to establish a state governed by the movement’s interpretation of Islam, then spread that political order beyond its borders. He distinguishes this ambition from the faith practised by Muslims such as himself, his parents and his grandparents.

For Rafiq, the distinction is personal. He believes in the separation of religion and state and explains that being Muslim concerns his relationship with God, rather than how he would govern other people. If he became prime minister, he says, his religion should make no difference to his commitment to democratic government. He fears Islamist movements will change how his children understand their faith, replacing the traditions his family knew with a political identity built around the movement’s objectives.

What the “100-Year Plan” Means

When Tompson asks whether demographic change could deliver an Islamist takeover, Rafiq does not endorse the prediction. He does not expect such a takeover in his lifetime or the foreseeable future, provided the public, including Muslims who oppose Islamism, is prepared to defend liberal democracy. His immediate concern is institutional entrenchment: the ability to influence policy, legislation and public debate without commanding majority support.

Rafiq points to “The Project”, a document he says was discovered during a Swiss counter-terrorism raid, and a separate North American memorandum used in the Holy Land Foundation trial. He presents them as evidence of a deliberate, gradual strategy and describes the campaign as already more than four decades into its work. The significance, in his telling, is the time and organisation devoted to it. Governments change and ministers move on, while networks that continue cultivating relationships and developing institutions can outlast them.

“Take Us to Your Leader”

Rafiq is particularly critical of the way British governments have selected Muslim organisations to engage with. He describes an old imperial habit:

“Take us to your leader.”

Officials want someone who can speak for a community, organisations present themselves as its representatives, and access to government helps strengthen their claim. Rafiq disputes the idea that these organisations necessarily represent Muslims such as him.

He describes successive administrations bringing Islamist-associated organisations into discussions, distancing themselves from them and then restoring access. In his account, Britain has repeatedly changed course without resolving the underlying question of whom it is legitimising. His criticism of the government at the time of the interview is especially sharp: he alleges that Muslims opposed to Islamism have been pushed aside while Islamist-aligned voices retain access. His objection is that being organised, politically useful or willing to claim a community mandate does not mean an organisation speaks for everyone within that community.

Islamism Beyond Islamists

Asked how many British Muslims support Islamism, Rafiq acknowledges that he does not know for certain. He is more interested in what he calls “Islamism beyond Islamists”: the extent to which Islamist ideas and objectives gain support among people, on both the left and the right, who would never identify with the movement. He argues that radicalisation can be emotional and social as well as religious. People may be drawn towards Islamist campaigns through distress over a conflict, material circulating online or a sense of belonging. Their involvement may be temporary, but it can still help the movement.

That leads to his explanation of the “red-green alliance”. Tompson asks why Western progressives who champion women’s rights and LGBT equality cooperate with people whose beliefs can directly contradict those commitments. Rafiq calls it the “bigotry of low expectations”, arguing that guilt about colonialism and a willingness to excuse illiberal views can lead parts of the left to overlook what their allies believe. From the Islamist perspective, he says, such alliances are temporary and useful.

The Influencer Has Replaced the Preacher

Rafiq also challenges assumptions about where Islamist messaging reaches people. The familiar image is of a radical preacher addressing a mosque, but his description places much greater emphasis on content creators, influencers and people who understand social media algorithms. Religious credentials are not always necessary: an engaging personality with an existing audience can reach people who would never attend a political meeting or seek out an ideological text.

He describes sophisticated operations that understand how to package messages, attract attention and turn emotion into political support. For anyone trying to counter that influence, concentrating exclusively on mosques and preachers means missing much of the activity. His account places online culture at the centre of the problem, where political messages can reach audiences through personalities they already follow and trust.

Qatar’s Money and Reach

The discussion turns to Qatar, which Rafiq sees as a major source of support and influence for Islamist networks. His interpretation is that Qatar’s rulers use relationships with these movements to extend the reach of a small, wealthy state. He does not claim to know the private intentions of every member of the ruling family or suggest that all of them necessarily want a global caliphate. He argues that these relationships give Qatar political weight far beyond its size.

Universities are central to his concerns. Rafiq discusses investigations into Qatari funding and argues that financial agreements can bring access, influence and rights over research. Tompson then raises Al Jazeera and its success in reaching Western audiences, including younger viewers through AJ+. Rafiq’s explanation is blunt: money allows an outlet to recruit established talent, acquire expertise and build an audience much faster than competitors with limited resources. He believes Western audiences underestimate the political importance of that reach.

Disrupting the Networks

“You can’t kill an ideology by banning it,” Rafiq says.

His emphasis is on disrupting organisations and activities where there are legal grounds to act: examining funding, investigating connections and challenging the charitable status or institutional access that helps networks operate. He also identifies a practical difficulty. The Muslim Brotherhood may not exist as a single registered organisation in a country, so governments need evidence about particular entities and individuals rather than assuming one designation will settle the matter.

That is where his warning becomes most concrete. A movement that has spent decades building influence will require sustained attention, detailed investigation and a willingness to act on the findings. Rafiq believes Western governments have been inconsistent while their opponents have been patient. His challenge is to recognise that difference before another decade passes.