Global Threat Situation in 2025
Selectively drawing upon the detailed regional analyses in the current volume, this overview covers the following three broad themes: 1) significant global developments and trends; 2) notable operational trends and developments; and 3) the enduring salience of a holistic, integrated approach in dealing with violent extremism.
Significant Global Developments and Trends
Israel’s (Successful?) War with the “Axis of Resistance”
One significant global development occurred in the Middle East. Israel’s sustained military campaign against Hamas in Gaza extended further afield. Israel severely degraded the militant group Hezbollah in Lebanon through various means, including tactically innovative “pager explosions” targeting its leaders. The Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) also pursued Hezbollah remnants in Syria, while maintaining “offensive operations against the Houthis as part of its continued efforts to dismantle Iran’s ‘Axis of Resistance’”.[1] Most significantly, Israel directly engaged Iran in a 12-day air and missile war in June, eliminating senior Iranian military figures and some key nuclear scientists, while also degrading Iran’s nuclear capabilities. By the end of June, Israel emerged as the dominant military force in the region, appearing to have “significantly reshaped the Middle East’s security landscape”.[2]
Nevertheless, Israel’s military exploits did not necessarily translate into durable strategic success. Hamas remained resilient, retaining “some “operational capability and authority in Gaza”.[3] Furthermore, in the continuing absence of wider and sustainable peace efforts, “regional instability” and the potential for “further escalation of conflicts” cannot be ruled out in the new year.[4] The impact of the ongoing Israel-Hamas conflict also continued to reverberate in Southeast Asia. In Singapore, for instance, the authorities reported that a number of individuals had been self-radicalised by the conflict, with some preparing to “engage in violence overseas or in Singapore”.[5]
Moreover, in mid-December, a horrific terrorist attack carried out by two gunmen against Jewish Australians celebrating Hannukah at Sydney’s Bondi Beach, left at least 16 people dead. The motives of the shooters and whether they acted alone or at the behest of a “broader organisation or state sponsor” were unclear at the time of writing. However, it was noted that the attack came amidst a serious uptick in anti-Semitic harassment and intimidation in Australia and globally, since the “deadly 7 October 2023 attacks” in Israel and the ensuing “Israel-Hamas conflict”.[6]
Developments in the Afghanistan-Pakistan Region
In 2025, the evolving geopolitical and strategic picture in the Afghanistan-Pakistan (Af-Pak) region remained relevant regionally and further afield.
The Afghan Taliban
The Taliban authorities enjoyed improving relations with neighbouring states. Hence, “regional security chiefs” engaged in exchanges of visits with the Taliban, including even “the Tajik government, historically the most resistant regional government to the Taliban’s harsh theocratic rule”.[7] Notably, in early July, Moscow “formally recognised the Taliban government”, and it was reported that the Taliban “cooperated closely with their Uzbek and Russian counterparts” in operations against the Taliban’s arch-rival, the Islamic State of Khorasan (ISK).[8] That said, while the Afghan Taliban seemed able to “constrain” ISK, the “Emirate’s main problem” was now the TTP (Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan)”.[9]
The Growing Influence of the TTP
Since the Taliban’s return to power in Kabul in August 2021, the “TTP has grown stronger every year”.[10] The TTP, “the largest and most organised militant network” in Pakistan, has been trying to absorb “like-minded jihadist factions to forge a unified struggle” to bring about a “Taliban-style shariah state” in Pakistan.[11] Effectively exploiting the grievances of tribal Pashtuns on the Af-Pak border, the TTP has imitated the Afghan Taliban’s “insurgency model by announcing self-styled wilayats (provinces), shadow ministers and military zones in Pakistan”.[12] While the Afghan Taliban officially denied the TTP’s presence on Afghan soil and rejected claims of supporting it materially, it supported the TTP ideologically. Kabul thus wanted Pakistan to recognise the TTP as a legal political party and “negotiate with it”.[13] Islamabad, on the other hand, wanted the Afghan Taliban regime to “fulfil its commitment” under the 2020 Doha Agreement and “ensure its soil is not used to launch cross-border terrorism in Pakistan”.[14] For their own reasons, the Afghan Taliban did not wish to “compromise the relationship” with Islamabad for the “TTP’s sake”.[15] Hence, TTP-Afghan Taliban relations “soured considerably in the second quarter of 2025”.[16] The TTP’s rank and file suspected some Afghan Taliban “complicity with Pakistani intelligence” in targeting TTP commanders and forces crossing into Pakistan from Afghan territory. Going forwards, therefore, the Afghan Taliban may need to tread with care on TTP matters, as the latter is “by far the most popular foreign jihadist group within the Taliban’s ranks and even among the population”.[17]
The TTP’s influence also transcended Afghanistan and Pakistan. A leading Bangladeshi figure with the TTP was “allegedly trying to mobilise trained fighters from the Afghanistan-Pakistan region to the Bangladesh-Myanmar border”, to join the Rohingya militant groups the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) and the Rohingya Solidarity Organisation (RSO), to fight against the Rakhine-based Arakan Army (AA) and the Burmese military, or the Tatmadaw.[18]
Islamic State, Al-Qaeda and Their Affiliates
The evolving geopolitical and strategic situation in the Af-Pak region in 2025 certainly had an impact on the regional fortunes of the Sunni Islamist extremist rivals, the Islamic State (IS), Al-Qaeda (AQ) and their respective affiliates. These networks remained functional to varying degrees, with some facing major challenges.
The Islamic State of Khorasan (ISK)
One group facing serious challenges was ISK, whose operational fortunes appeared to be trending downwards. While ISK regularly skirmished with Taliban forces in the far east of Afghanistan, there was “no doubt that by mid-2025 its visibility was very low”.[19] Damagingly, within Afghanistan itself, the politically ascendant TTP had been delegitimising ISK ideologically as “Kharijites” (extremists) since June 2024. Crucially, with the fall of the Bashar al-Assad regime in Syria in December 2024, the IS global leadership apparently redirected funding originally earmarked for ISK “towards Syria, where IS sees a strategic opportunity for a relaunch”.[20] Perhaps due to growing pressure in Türkiye and Afghanistan, ISK leaders had looked to Balochistan as a potential safe haven, but this turned out to be a “costly mistake” due to differences with the Baloch separatists.[21] ISK’s “lack of funding and poor logistics”, along with the inclement environment in 2025, compelled ISK leaders to assess that there was little point “in going on the offensive from such a position of weakness”, and it was thus “decided [the group would] keep its forces in reserve for better opportunities”.[22]
The Central Asian Factor
The collapse of the Assad regime in Syria and the takeover by Hayat Tahir al-Sham (HTS) – previously associated with both AQ and IS but now violently opposed to both[23] – represented “a major watershed in the global jihadist narrative”.[24] Notably, Central Asian fighters – such as the Uyghur fighters of the AQ-affiliated Turkistan Islamic Party (TIP) – played a “prominent part” in the final push to take the country.[25] A Central Asian signature was even detected on the opposing side of the new HTS government in Syria. ISK’s Uzbek and Tajik propaganda continued to attack HTS, accusing the seemingly pragmatic HTS jihadist leader, Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa, “of betraying jihadists through his willingness to embrace the American, Russian, Chinese and other ‘enemy’ governments”.[26] Central Asian militants linked to IS or ISK were implicated in activities in Uzbekistan, Russia, the Netherlands and Germany as well, indicating that “Central Asian militancy remains a persistent concern globally”.[27]
The IS Footprint in Africa and Southeast Asia
The 2025 edition of the Global Terrorism Index confirmed that the Sahel region “now represents more than half of all global terrorism-related deaths”.[28] IS continued to use its “operations in its African provinces to demonstrate its vitality and ongoing activity”.[29] IS militant groups were active in Africa in 2025, especially in Nigeria, Mozambique and Central Africa.[30] The Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), which splintered from and is now a bitter rival of the older Boko Haram group, “scaled up its attacks against Nigeria’s security forces in 2025”, while Boko Haram, though “weakened by frequent assaults by ISWAP”, nevertheless remained active.[31] The Islamic State-Mozambique (IS-Mozambique), operating since October 2017 and centred in the resource-rich northernmost region of Cabo Delgado, remained resilient in the face of security force pressure. Meanwhile, the Islamic State Central Africa Province (ISCAP), operating in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo and western Uganda, continued “its lethal attacks against the civilian population”.[32] Other active IS groups include the Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP) in the tri-border region of western Niger, northern Burkina Faso and eastern Mali, as well as the Islamic State Somalia (IS-Somalia) in the Bari region of the Puntland state of Somalia. IS-Somalia in particular played a key role as the “financial nerve centre for coordinating terror funds transfers to other IS affiliates in Africa, the Middle East and Asia”.[33]
Worryingly, IS-Somalia even evinced a Southeast Asian footprint in 2025. In July, a Malaysian national, Dr Hakeem Ubeyda, was reportedly killed in a counter terrorist operation in Puntland, Somalia. Ubeyda was described as IS-Somalia’s chief medical officer. IS-Somalia “reportedly includes a large contingent of foreign terrorist fighters (FTFs)”.[34] IS displayed Southeast Asian links in other ways as well. In the second quarter of 2025, the Malaysian Special Branch detained 36 Bangladeshi nationals for being part of the allegedly IS-linked and self-proclaimed Gerakan Militan Radikal Bangladesh (GMRB) group. The group had apparently engaged in “recruitment and fund-raising among Bangladeshi nationals in Malaysia”.[35] Meanwhile, in Singapore, “the continued spread of IS-inspired extremist content online” continued to cause concern.[36]
AQ and its Affiliates
Since returning to power, the Afghan Taliban, in order to improve relations with neighbouring states, has sought to restrain Ughur, Uzbek and Tajik jihadists hosted in Afghanistan. The same pressure has been applied to AQ “to avoid external operations, even though it enjoys better conditions in Afghanistan than the Central Asian jihadists”.[37] That said, AQ continued operating training camps in Afghanistan in 2025, with its de facto leader, Sayf al-Adl, even inviting “would-be radicals” from any location to travel to Afghanistan for training. However, if the Afghan Taliban elects “to further solidify the improvement in relations with Pakistan”, AQ’s training camp activities would likely “also be subject to pressure” to cease operations.[38]
Beyond the Af-Pak region, AQ is “widely considered a less potent and immediate threat globally than the Islamic State in terms of external operations”.[39] However, in Africa, particularly in the Sahel and Somalia, AQ’s “regional branches are more lethal than Islamic State affiliates”.[40] In Somalia, Al-Shabaab continued in 2025 to control large parts of the country, while Jamaat Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimeen (JNIM), a coalition of AQ jihadists operating in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, remained “one of the most destabilising terror outfits in the region”.[41] Globally, these two AQ African affiliates, Al-Shabaab and JNIM, are regarded as “dominating the group’s successes”.[42]
The year also witnessed an AQ nexus between South and Southeast Asia. It was reported that members of The Resistance Front (TRF), a group linked to the 2024 Pahalgam terror attack in Kashmir, India, received fund transfers from elements in Malaysia. The TRF is regarded as a front for the Pakistan-based, AQ-linked terror group, Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT).[43]
Far-Right Extremism
The extreme right as an overall political movement espouses “at least three of the following five features: nationalism, racism, xenophobia, anti-democracy and strong state advocacy”, while the far right can be regarded as the “political manifestation of the extreme right”.[44] Far-right extremist (FRE) groups that promote and engage in violence against racial, religious and other minority groups represent a violent subset of the extreme and far right, rooted in the “definitional foundations of othering, nativism, and authoritarianism”.[45] The year 2025 was certainly not short of FRE incidents in the West, South Asia and even in Southeast Asia itself.
In the United States (US), for instance, the authoritative 2025 Murder and Extremism in the United States report asserted that: “All the extremist-related murders in 2024 were committed by right-wing extremists of various kinds, with eight of the 13 killings involving white supremacists”.[46] Additionally, “far-right terrorism threats” were an issue in Canada, Australia and New Zealand, while in Europe, “far-right terrorism” remained a “distinct threat” as well – for instance, in the Hague, “hundreds of far-right extremists clashed with police and vandalised the offices of the centrist D66 party”.[47]
FRE ideologies centred on the “Great Replacement” conspiracy theory remained a concern even in non-Western Southeast Asia. In Singapore, four FRE cases identified between 2020 and June 2025 pointed to the “increasing traction of FRE ideologies” in the city-state.[48] In April 2025, for instance, reports emerged of a detained 17-year-old Singaporean boy, who, “radicalised by the March 2019 Christchurch shootings in New Zealand”, had wanted to kill “at least 100 Muslims” at mosques in Singapore.[49] Seven months later, in Jakarta, a 17-year-old Indonesian student launched a bomb attack against a high school mosque, injuring 96 people. Although investigations found the attack was inspired by “criminal” and not “extremist” motives,[50] it was noted that the attacker had carried with him two airsoft guns inscribed with various Western FRE references.[51]
Malaysia was also not immune to “an increase in far-right sentiments” online, centred on “rising Malay-Muslim conservatism” with the “potential to deepen social divides and fuel exclusivism or even extremism”.[52] It was suggested that such sentiments, when coupled with “extensive social media exposure”, could, going forwards, “contribute to radicalisation and isolated actor attacks”.[53] Such “glocalisation” of “far-right ideologies to reflect local sentiments” was evinced in “memes and social media content across Southeast Asia” and even East Asia, fuelled by social media and targeting impressionable youth.[54] At times, sustained exposure to a range of not just FRE but other ideologies, produced idiosyncratic cases of youth radicalisation. For instance, in 2025, Singapore recorded “its first incel-related radicalisation case” when a 14-year-old boy was reportedly radicalised by “a mix of far-right, far-left and IS ideologies”.[55]
FRE ideologies centred on Great Replacement themes continued to manifest in South Asia as well. India witnessed an “intensification of communal violence” reportedly linked to “the spread of Hindutva ideology”.[56] Vigilante “cow protection” violence remained “a defining feature of Hindutva attacks”, fuelling “mob lynchings and assaults targeting Muslims and Dalits”.[57] Indian Christians too faced “escalating hostility”, having been on the receiving end of scores of indignities ranging from “the harassment of pastors to mob assaults during Sunday services”.[58] The overall effect of this Hindutva-influenced communal unrest in 2025 was a “deep erosion of social cohesion and communal trust” towards the Hindu majority on the part of Muslims and Christians, with a concerning impact on “India’s plural social fabric”.[59]
The Social Media Factor
In 2025, “Islamist extremist and far-right actors alike” continued to rely on “decentralised supporter networks and localised online content-sharing ecosystems”, allowing them to “sustain online activity despite intensified moderation efforts”. These online networks and ecosystems in turn proliferated, increasingly becoming “key vehicles for threat actors to carry out their radicalisation and community-building efforts”.[60]
Notably, geopolitical developments in the Middle East, like the conflicts in Gaza and Syria, as well as the aforementioned Israeli-Iranian conflict, remained “central narrative anchors” within the Islamist extreme online ecosystem.[61] IS and AQ deployed dissimilar social media narratives. The “rigid and uncompromising sectarianism” of IS, coupled with its global caliphate agenda, prevented it from supporting the Islamist nationalist Hamas unconditionally. Instead, IS online rhetoric emphasised that attacks on “apostate” Middle Eastern regimes were “a valid way to aid the Palestinian cause”.[62] For its part, in spite of “historical criticisms of Hamas’s nationalism”, AQ was relatively muted in its “ideological critiques” of Hamas, so as to “project an image of jihadist unity” and portray itself as a “champion of the Palestinian cause”.[63]
Additionally, while official IS narratives framed Israel as an “archetypal adversary of Islam and Iran as a false champion of the Palestinian cause”, [64] AQ narratives emphasised the need to confront the “far enemy”, referring to Israel and its Western allies. For instance, AQ Central, reacting to the mass displacement of Palestinians from Gaza, issued a statement in early 2025 affirming that “targeting the head of global disbelief is the most effective way to stand against these criminal policies of the axis of evil: America, the Zionist entity, and all the infidel Western countries”.[65]
At the same time, while IS propaganda sought to “recast post-Assad Syria” as a “theologically ordained” and “fertile ground for renewed jihad”, in the South Asian context, both IS and AQ tried to “connect geopolitical events like the long-running India-Pakistan tensions to a religious war against Muslims”, using the eschatological narrative of Ghazwatul Hind, coupled with selective readings of religious texts, “to radicalise and recruit followers”.[66]
Within Southeast Asia, a decentralised network of unofficial Islamist extremist supporter groups continued to adapt IS extremist tropes, “translating core propaganda and exploiting local and international grievances”.[67] For instance, pro-IS Indonesian online networks on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, WhatsApp and YouTube connected local supporters with global IS developments “through consistent translations of the group’s major audio statements and by echoing calls to attack in Syria”.[68] The fall of the Syrian Assad regime marked a “critical inflection point for pro-IS, pro-AQ and pro-Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) supporters within the region”.[69] While Indonesian pro-AQ supporters “amplified positive framings of HTS, portraying Syria’s regime transition as divinely ordained”, pro-IS channels accused HTS of being anti-Islam and declared HTS leader al-Sharaa an apostate for engaging Western officials. Meanwhile, Hizb ut-Tahrir Indonesia (HTI) online forums “condemned the new regime for failing to declare a caliphate”, while also disparaging al-Sharaa as a traitor.[70]
Another significant development was “IS’s gradual integration of AI into its media strategy”, with the rise of “increasingly refined generative AI (GenAI)-produced visuals across IS-affiliated publications, with machine learning tools now used to produce posters, enhance imagery and generate multilingual translations”.[71] The intensified use of AI in online propaganda was seen in Pakistan, where “all major terrorist networks” started using AI for “propaganda operations”, including the preparation of infographics, animated pictures and video recordings of operations, to “exaggerate their impact” as well as “translat[e] their bulletins into multiple regional languages”.[72] The use of GenAI, especially for purposes of disinformation and misinformation, was said to be the “next frontier for jihadist propaganda” in Africa,[73] while in Southeast Asia, the use of AI by some radicalised individuals “added another layer of complexity to the issue”.[74]
In terms of the FRE social media ecosystem in 2025, two basic trends were observed. First, the glocalisation of the core FRE ideological tenets of nativism, authoritarianism and populism continued, as these ideas circulated “beyond their oft-associated Western loci” and were “refracted through local particularities”.[75] Second, “post-organisational dynamics” further deepened, with “extremist engagement and mobilisation continuing within established organisations”, but at the same time “increasingly mediated through decentralised online networks and digital subcultures”.[76] Such mediating processes ensured that FRE “master frames” were not adopted wholesale, but rather customised and adapted to “locally resonant narratives and grievances”, often “reframing domestic anxieties as part of a broader struggle” to forestall the “perceived erosion of ‘traditional’ values”.[77] The twin dynamics of glocalisation and decentralised, networked engagement were increasingly obvious in Southeast Asia, as evidenced by the rise of “diverse online FRE communities and subcultures”, together with “several reported cases of online-driven radicalisation”.[78]
The Grey Zone: Non-Violent Islamist Extremism
In 2025, as previously, subtle evidence of a continuing blurring of lines between putatively constitutional, non-violent political parties, civil society groups and violent actors, remained discernible.
In Bangladesh, the Islamist political landscape, following the ouster of the Awami League government the previous August, experienced a significant resurgence. Major political Islamist groups, such as Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami (BJI) and Hefazat-e-Islam (HeI), exploited the political vacuum to expand their influence, potentially normalising “extremist demands within the political mainstream”.[79] The Gaza crisis proved to be a “dual catalyst, significantly accelerating the resurgence of mainstream Islamist political parties while also amplifying extremist threats in Bangladesh”.[80] The BJI successfully leveraged the Gaza issue, framing the conflict “as a defence of the global Muslim community” while allying with HeI and the like-minded Islami Andolon Bangladesh to promote “intense religious emotions to advance their pro-shariah agendas”.[81]
Hizb ut-Tahrir Bangladesh (HTB), for its part, “moved dramatically from its previously covert proselytisation to openly mobilisation in major cities”.[82] The heightened visibility of HTB’s “hardline political Islam” appeared to correspond with “a concerning rise in religious extremism, intolerance and a wave of violence targeting religious minorities, secular individuals and women’s rights activists”.[83]
The non-violent/violent extremist nexus associated with Hizb ut-Tahrir (HT) was also discernible in Central Asia. In Kyrgyzstan, the authorities disrupted a nine-person network linked to the banned HT, “reportedly finding firearms”.[84] HT links were also observed when the Uzbek authorities, working with Russian and Afghan counterparts, disrupted attack plots within and outside Uzbekistan.[85]
In Southeast Asia, “non-violent extremist organisations” like HTI experienced “a resurgence in activity over the past year”, with HTI organising mass nationwide rallies involving thousands in support of Palestine, while calling for “the establishment of a caliphate”.[86] HTI also exploited nationwide protests in Indonesia in August over economic grievances, which escalated after a video of the police killing a delivery rider went viral, resulting in the deaths of at least 10 people.[87] One key HTI propaganda platform spread the narrative that the only “correct path” to “address the root problems of society” was by “establishing the khilafah (caliphate) and implementing Islamic shariah law”.[88] The platform pointedly urged Indonesian Muslims to “abandon the corrupt system of democracy” and “fight to establish an Islamic state”, eventually culminating in the “full establishment of Islam across the world”.[89]
HTI was banned in Indonesia in 2017 due to its perceived opposition to Pancasila and the Indonesian Constitution, but it is “technically not a terrorist organisation since it has not committed any indiscriminate violence”.[90] However, HTI’s seeming seamless porosity between non-violent and violent modes worried the Jakarta authorities, who regarded HTI as still posing “security concerns because of its ideological similarity with violent Islamist organisations, leading to potential member crossovers”.[91] It did not go unnoticed that HTI members were part of a “cross-regional pro-IS network” implicated in plots to attack the 2024 Indonesian general elections.[92]
Notable Operational Trends and Developments
In terms of more narrowly focused operational trends and developments, several key themes stood out in the 2025 survey.
The Increasing Use of Unmanned Aerial Systems
The increased weaponisation and deployment of unmanned aerial systems (UAS), or drones, were evident in conflict zones globally. In western Africa, ISWAP deployed “modified commercial drones for attacks and reconnaissance” that contributed to the lethality of its operations.[93] Similarly, Hamas proved “innovative in its military tactics by incorporating commercial drones in its weapons arsenal to expand its attack capabilities”.[94] IS also continued to weaponise “commercially available drones”, repurposing them to “carry and drop small munitions or explosives”, exploiting their “low-cost, high-impact capability to conduct targeted attacks”.[95] Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP) in Yemen, meanwhile, reportedly also sought to acquire and adapt drones for “surveillance and potentially for delivering small payloads”.[96]
The apparent standout threat group in the Middle East, as far as drone use was concerned, were the Houthis in Yemen, whose Samad and Qasef-2K series of drones were deployed for “both reconnaissance and attack missions, including targeting oil facilities and international shipping”.[97] Importantly, since the Gaza conflict started, the more than 100 missile and drone attacks against shipping the Houthis have mounted in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden, have significantly impacted maritime trade in the Middle East. This has compelled many shippers to take longer maritime routes around the Cape of Good Hope, resulting in increased freight costs and turning the Red Sea into “a high-risk zone”.[98]
Elsewhere, the increasing use of relatively cheap commercial drones by “Pakistani terrorist networks across the ideological spectrum” was an “alarming trend in 2025”.[99] Furthermore, the transfer of knowledge, skills and funds from the Taliban and AQ to the TTP and related threat groups like the Hafiz Gul Bahadur Group (HGBG), proved equally crucial in the weaponisation of drones. While almost all terrorist groups in Pakistan used drones for surveillance and propaganda operations, “only factions affiliated with the TTP and the HGBG” used them for attacks. Interestingly, ISK and the Baloch Liberation Army (BLA) have not deployed drones for attacks so far.[100]
In Southeast Asia, resistance groups fighting against the Tatmadaw in Myanmar “increasingly used drones for offensive operations, ranging from swarm tactics to precision ambushes and targeted strikes on junta convoys and outposts”.[101] These drone capabilities permitted the lightly armed people’s defence forces (PDFs) to offset disadvantages in heavy weapons and to “strike effectively in urban peripheries and contested transport corridors”.[102]
A Wide Range of Attack Modalities and Targets
The increasing use of drones aside, as previously, threat and armed groups globally employed a very wide variety of attack modalities against a range of diverse targets.
In Africa, to take a few IS affiliates as examples, IS-Somalia adopted “highly deadly asymmetric guerrilla tactics”, including improvised explosive devices (IEDs), landmines and mobile ambushes, while ISCAP employed “agile small units” to infiltrate urban and peri-urban communities as “taxi drivers and small-scale traders”.[103] Meanwhile, ISSP displayed “tactical flexibility by employing ambushes, IEDs and large-scale attacks on isolated military bases and rural areas using motorcycles”, while also carrying out “devastating attacks against civilians”.[104]
Baloch separatist groups in Pakistan, especially the BLA, displayed enhanced operational capabilities, shifting from attacking “low-profile targets like gas pipelines, power pylons and railway tracks” to “more daring attacks on security checkposts and military camps and convoys”.[105] The BLA also deliberately blocked main highways to disrupt traffic from the rest of the country, fostering the impression that “the government is losing control over Balochistan’s main road networks”.[106]
In Southeast Asia, armed groups attacked a range of targets deploying a variety of tactics as well. Relatively conventional military tactics were noted in Myanmar’s ongoing civil war. For instance, in Sagaing in March, “one of the conflict’s fiercest engagements” occurred when local PDFs “captured dozens of soldiers and cut off reinforcements to Indaw Township”.[107] Six months later, “anti-junta forces” captured Banmauk, a mining and timber hub near Sagaing’s border with Kachin State. In Salin Township, anti-junta forces struck the Tanyaung Power Plant, which supplies electricity to important military factories, “likely causing significant damage to the region’s military production”.[108] In sum, anti-junta resistance forces in Myanmar appeared to prefer coordinated “large-scale assaults” to “inflict substantial damage on the military’s ability to operate outside urban strongholds”.[109]
In southern Thailand, on the other hand, “unarmed civilians” continued to “bear the brunt of the protracted conflict”.[110] Compared to 2024, civilian casualties remained slightly higher than those amongst armed combatants. Moreover, although the frequency of insurgent attacks declined slightly, “their severity and lethality increased”.[111] For example, one major incident in March was a coordinated assault by heavily armed insurgents on the Sungai Kolok district office in Narathiwat, using a car bomb, assault rifles and grenades. The attack killed two defence volunteers and injured eight others, including three passing civilians.[112]
The Youth Radicalisation Challenge
Youth radicalisation remained a “significant and alarming global trend”, certainly in the Middle East, “with particularly acute manifestations in Syria and Yemen”.[113] In Syria, after the Assad regime fell, IS smuggled weapons into the al-Hol prison camp, where IS families are detained, to train children within the camp with the objective of preparing them to become “cubs of the caliphate”.[114] IS aside, a United Nations (UN) report in June also asserted that the Houthis had “recruited 182 boys and then deployed them to the frontlines, exposing them to extreme violence”.[115]
In Pakistan, the younger generation of Baloch separatists were better educated, social media savvy and attracted to more radical forms of Baloch nationalism. Baloch youth, who form more than 70 percent of Balochistan’s population, remained generally alienated, which helped set the stage for “steady recruitment to the Baloch separatist groups”.[116] In Bangladesh, prominent young, urban ideologues with a history of links to “groups like Ansar al Islam (AAI) and global networks like AQ” facilitated “online radicalisation”, deftly exploiting digital platforms to recruit urban, educated youth.[117] In Southeast Asia, youth radicalisation remained a pressing concern, certainly in Singapore, given the increase in the number of youths dealt with under the Internal Security Act since 2015.[118] Moreover, rather than Islamist extremists alone, “terrorists of various persuasions”, including those motivated by FRE and a “mix of ideologies”,[119] are also getting younger.[120]
The Lone-Actor Threat
One notable operational trend that persisted was the lone-actor threat. In the Middle East, IS, given its reduced capacity for large-scale coordinated operations, “explicitly encouraged and promoted lone wolves in its propaganda, given they are difficult to prevent with their small intelligence footprint”.[121] One notable example of this IS tactic was the suicide bombing inside St Elias church near Damascus on June 22, which resulted in the deaths of at least 25 people.[122] In the Malaysian context, a 2025 assessment noted that “the persistent threat of isolated actors attempting low-tech attacks using knives or improvised explosives cannot be discounted”.[123] Likewise, in Singapore, the threat of self-radicalised lone actors using low-tech methods such as knife attacks in public places was also recognised.[124]
Islamist extremism aside, “most far-right violence today” is perpetrated by lone individuals as well. It is worth reiterating that these “lone actors also increasingly display erratic and personalised ideologies which either combine multiple ideological traditions or create new worldviews wholesale”.[125] For example, a 2023 mass shooting at a shopping mall in Allen, Texas, involved a Latino gunman with mixed ideological leanings: he had a swastika tattoo on his chest and had also posted incel tropes online, at one point declaring, “I hate women”.[126]
The Enduring Importance of a Holistic, Integrated Approach in Dealing with Violent Extremism
Finally, the year’s developments affirmed that a judicious mix of hard and soft approaches, involving a calibrated application of force together with a serious, multidimensional effort to address the underlying conditions which drive violent extremism, remained crucial.
The “Hard” Approach: Strengths and Limitations
The Challenge of Kinetic Counter Terrorist Operations
In 2025, South Asia seemed to be a region of contrasts when it came to counter terrorist operations. On the one hand, the interim Bangladeshi government’s perceived “‘soft’ approach” and “denial of the terrorism threat” were seen as a weak response to the burgeoning Islamist extremist threat in the country. This policy laxity was regarded as “disempowering CT agencies”, illustrated by the fact that large specialist counter terrorist agencies were diverted to “capturing juvenile gangs and other conventional criminals”.[127] On the other hand, in Pakistan, the state’s “overmilitarised counterinsurgency framework”, including extrajudicial abductions and killings of Baloch dissidents, contributed to sustaining the transition of the Baloch insurgency from a tribal to an urban guerrilla movement.[128]
In some African cases, an overly hard kinetic approach to the militant challenge was also discernible. The Mozambican government’s “security-centric and heavily militarised operations” experienced “limited success” as they failed to address the “complex structural and historical factors” that primarily fuelled the insurgency.[129] In the Sahel, meanwhile, the militaries of Mali, Niger and Burkina Faso increasingly mobilised civilian vigilantes and defence groups to bolster their “overwhelmed armies”, with “limited success” as well.[130]
Overly kinetic operations were also evident in Southeast Asia. In embattled Myanmar, the Tatmadaw relied on “airstrikes, heavy artillery and scorched earth tactics to depopulate contested areas”.[131] Such airstrikes “destroyed clinics and schools, intensifying mass displacement and economic collapse”.[132] At the same time, in western Rakhine State, in response to the AA’s “relentless” progress, the junta resorted to “increasingly desperate tactics”, including “indiscriminate aerial and artillery attacks on civilian areas”, a flawed approach that hinted at the reality of “military overstretch”.[133]
Across the border in India, the state’s Maoist counterinsurgency operations were also characterised by over-reliance on military firepower. Observers documented instances of “alleged disproportionate force, custodial violence and extrajudicial killings”,[134] all of which only undermined the “legitimacy of governance” among the tribal populations of the region, where the Maoist insurgents emerge from. In sum, a “purely military approach”, going forwards, risks “perpetuating grievance cycles in the region”.[135]
In contrast, the Indian military’s kinetic response to the April 2025 terror attack by Pakistan-based jihadists in the Pahalgam region of Jammu and Kashmir state, where 26 Hindu pilgrims were killed, was arguably more measured and effective. The Indian military response involved coordinated missile and air strikes – called Operation Sindoor – against jihadist camps and military bases across Pakistan and Pakistani-administered Kashmir. The strikes disrupted the operational infrastructure of several jihadist groups, including LeT, Jaish-e-Mohammad (JeM) and Hizbul Mujahideen (HM).[136]
Southeast Asia provided additional examples of relatively effective kinetic counter terrorist operations. In eastern Malaysia, the Eastern Sabah Security Command (ESSCOM) continued to play a key role in “safeguarding coastal entry points and preventing kidnapping, smuggling and militant activities”.[137] ESSCOM and regional security forces also adopted UAS, advanced coastal radar systems and closed-circuit television (CCTV) monitoring in their operations.[138]
Laws and Other Measures
Kinetic operations aside, the hard approach also comprises legal and administrative measures, which, if well coordinated and implemented, can be effective. In 2025, several Southeast Asian states evinced this approach with some degree of success. In Singapore, in February, the government passed the Maintenance of Racial Harmony Bill, empowering authorities to issue restraining orders against individuals producing content that undermines Singapore’s racial harmony. This legislation took close reference from the older and proven Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act. The measured nature of the latest amendment was evinced by a “community remedial initiative”, allowing “offenders involved in less severe cases to make amends and undergo rehabilitation”.[139]
In Indonesia, another piece of legislation, the TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia) Law, was amended in April to permit active military officers to head the Indonesian National Counter Terrorism Agency (BNPT) and included plans to establish 22 new regional military commands as well as 100 new territorial development battalions. The military was legally authorised to conduct “hard” approaches, such as “intelligence gathering using military assets”, and “soft” approaches, such as “deradicalisation seminars held at the army’s local territorial command headquarters”.[140] That said, the Prabowo administration was mindful of “preserving a balance between the police, the military and other state institutions involved in CT”.[141]
In the southern Philippines, terrorist activities continued to trend downwards in 2025, with no major attacks occurring in the year. The security forces benefitted from a calibrated kinetic effort to eliminate terrorist leaders, while simultaneously inducing surrenders through a key legislative instrument, Executive Order 70 (EO70). Implemented in 2018, EO70 has been “instrumental in creating a framework for terrorists to surrender”.[142] Under EO70, active combatants wishing to lay down their arms can “surrender themselves in exchange for protection and livelihood support”.[143]
“Softer” Approaches Needed Too
Ultimately, a more holistic, integrated approach is needed to neuter violent extremism. Thus, the abovementioned “harder”, kinetic elements of national power, need to be balanced with “softer” measures dealing with the underlying conditions that give rise to violent extremism in the first place.
Holistic National Action Plans
Official recognition of the need to “balance its kinetic and non-kinetic counter terrorism responses” was evident in Pakistan, which announced a new National Prevention of Violent Extremism (NPVE) Policy in 2025.[144] The new NPVE policy seeks to “sustain kinetic counter terrorism achievements through concurrent non-kinetic policy interventions”.[145] The NPVE comprises a Five-R framework: 1) revisit (educational curriculum); 2) reach out (counter extremist ideologies through mainstream and social media); 3) reduce risk (of violent extremism); 4) reinforce (the message of peace and tolerance); and 5) reintegrate (rehabilitation of former fighters and conflict-affected communities).[146] While a timely idea, the real challenge facing the NPVE going forwards will be its judicious execution.[147]
In Indonesia, BNPT commenced Phase II of the Indonesian National Action Plan Against Extremism (RAN PE) for 2025 to 2029, which emphasised “improving interagency collaboration and engaging local governments to take an active role in P/CVE”.[148] Meanwhile, building on the Malaysian Action Plan on Preventing and Countering Violent Extremism (MyPCVE) launched in 2024,[149] the Malaysian Special Branch expanded its systematic outreach efforts through the organisation of public awareness programmes. In July, for instance, the E8 Counter Terrorism Division held a public exhibition on terrorism and counter terrorism in Penang, aiming to raise awareness of the dangers of terrorist involvement, emphasise the community’s role in prevention efforts, and educate the public on recognising early signs of radicalisation.[150]
Rehabilitation and Reintegration Programmes
Rehabilitation and reintegration programmes should aim to provide “former terrorist detainees with the tools and support necessary to rebuild their lives and become productive members of society”.[151] This proved to be challenging in the Middle East, due to some extent to “insufficient funding”.[152] The directors of the aforementioned al-Hol Camp housing IS youth and families, consistently complained about the “critical lack of rehabilitation facilities and psychological support necessary to deradicalise these youth”.[153]
The situation seemed relatively better in Southeast Asia. One notable initiative jointly established by the seemingly rehabilitated Jemaah Islamiyah (JI)[154] and Densus 88 in June was the Rumah Wasathiyah (House of Moderation) programme. Headed by very senior JI leaders, Rumah Wasathiyah aims to “engage former JI members and terrorist inmates to encourage disengagement from extremism”, via various modalities such as “face-to-face seminars, online webinars and in-prison discussions with inmates convicted of terrorism offences”.[155] As a relatively new initiative, its longer-term impact needs to be monitored. Additionally, while the overall recidivism rate among rehabilitated Indonesian terrorists remained relatively low, there was little room for complacency. Some recidivists subsequently assumed key leadership roles of new militant cells, reiterating the need for all former terrorists to “systematically receive consistent reintegration support”.[156]
The threat of recidivism was also a concern in Malaysia. Several recent IS-linked terrorism arrests and convictions involved recidivists, “some of whom were radicalised while incarcerated”,[157] due in part to prison overcrowding, which contributed to the “spread of extremist ideologies alongside other challenges”.[158] Mindanao in the Philippines too faced challenges in the reintegration of former combatants. These individuals struggled to adjust to civilian life after years of conflict. Moreover, “threats of retaliation and the lack of psychosocial support” increased the “risk of recidivism”.[159]
In Singapore, community-based rehabilitation and reintegration initiatives led by the Religious Rehabilitation Group (RRG) continued. Notably, Singapore expanded its rehabilitation capabilities beyond Islamic religious counselling to “encompass a wider range of extremist ideologies”.[160] Newer interventions targeting self-radicalised youth were developed, including “mentorship programmes, cyber wellness initiatives and social skills development courses”.[161]
Addressing Medium- to Longer-Term Structural Grievances
Finally, the 2025 survey reinforced yet again that comprehensively addressing underlying political and socioeconomic structural grievances simply has to be part of the overall policy mix in dealing with the violent extremism challenge.
This point was clear in the Middle East, where the “need for a comprehensive framework which includes clear provisions for Hamas to disarm and integrate its members into a Palestinian community” under a “unified and legitimate Palestinian government”, was regarded as a key component “notably absent” from US President Donald Trump’s 20-point plan for the end of the Gaza conflict.[162] In a nutshell, stability in the Middle East depends on “regional and international actors moving beyond short-term military solutions to pursue inclusive governance and cooperation to address the root causes of extremism”.[163] Otherwise, the “cycle of violence and instability” could well continue.[164]
In Africa, the regions “most affected by terrorism” continue to face deeper challenges, such as political instability among elites, corruption, poor governance, violence against civilians, and human rights violations committed by armies and civilian vigilante groups.[165] Because several African countries struggle to provide basic security and social services across vast, ungoverned border areas, threat groups can step in and fill the gap. In Pakistan, the state’s “neglect” of the “genuine socioeconomic grievances” of the Baloch population has also played a big role in generating support for the Baloch militants.[166]
A similar logic holds in Southeast Asia. In southern Thailand, knowledgeable observers argue that, fundamentally, “Malay Muslims” in the Deep South will continue “demanding recognition of their distinct ethnic, linguistic and cultural identity as well as greater self-governance” – and as long as this issue remains unresolved, the conflict is likely to persist.[167]
About the Author
Kumar Ramakrishna is Professor of National Security Studies, Provost’s Chair in National Security Studies, and Dean of the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University (NTU), Singapore. He was previously Head of the International Centre for Political Violence and Terrorism Research (ICPVTR) and is currently its Research Advisor. He can be reached at [email protected].
Thumbnail photo by NASA on Unsplash
Citations
[1] See Ghada Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat in the Middle East in 2025,” in this volume.
[2] Ibid. See also Mahfuh Bin Haji Halimi, Ahmad Saiful Rijal Bin Hassan and Ahmad Helmi Bin Mohamad Hasbi, “Weaponising Discontent: Islamist Extremist Narratives Amid 2025 Global Conflicts,” in this volume.
[3] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat”.
[4] Ibid.
[5] See Kalicharan Veera Singam, “Singapore,” in this volume.
[6] Lydia Khalil, “What We Know About the Bondi Attack,” The Interpreter, December 15, 2025, https://www.lowyinstitute.org/the-interpreter/what-we-know-about-bondi-attack.
[7] See Raffaello Pantucci, “Central Asia,” in this volume.
[8] Ibid.
[9] See Dr Antonio Giustozzi, “Afghanistan,” in this volume.
[10] See Abdul Basit, “Pakistan,” in this volume.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Ibid.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Ibid.
[15] Giustozzi, “Afghanistan.”
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid.
[18] See Iftekharul Bashar, “Bangladesh,” in this volume.
[19] Giustozzi, “Afghanistan.”
[20] Ibid.
[21] Ibid.
[22] Ibid.
[23] Mackenzie Holtz, “Examining Extremism: Hayat Tahrir Al-Sham (HTS),” Center for Strategic & International Studies, August 3, 2023, https://www.csis.org/blogs/examining-extremism/examining-extremism-hayat-tahrir-al-sham-hts.
[24] Pantucci, “Central Asia.”
[25] Ibid.
[26] Ibid.
[27] Ibid.
[28] See Halkano Abdi Wario, “Africa,” in this volume.
[29] See Benjamin Mok, Nurrisha Ismail and Saddiq Basha, “Key Trends in Digital Extremism 2025: Glocalisation, Decentralisation, and Ideological Hybridisation in Southeast Asia,” in this volume.
[30] Ibid.
[31] Wario, “Africa.”
[32] Ibid.
[33] Ibid.
[34] See Rueben Dass, “Malaysia,” in this volume.
[35] Ibid.
[36] Singam, “Singapore.”
[37] Giustozzi, “Afghanistan.”
[38] Ibid.
[39] Colin Clarke and Clara Broekaert, “The Global State of al-Qa’ida 24 Years After 9/11,” CTC Sentinel 18, no. 9 (2025): 20-31, https://ctc.westpoint.edu/the-global-state-of-al-qaida-24-years-after-9-11/.
[40] Ibid.
[41] Wario, “Africa.”
[42] Clarke and Broekaert, “The Global State of al-Qa’ida.”
[43] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[44] Julia Ebner, Going Dark: The Secret Social Lives of Extremists (Bloomsbury, 2020), 288.
[45] Claudia Wallner and Jessica White, Global Violent Right-Wing Extremism: Mapping the Threat and Response in the Western Balkans, Turkey, and South Africa (Royal United Services Institute, 2022): 42, https://www.rusi.org/explore-our-research/publications/external-publications/global-violent-right-wing-extremism-mapping-threat-and-response-western-balkans-turkey-and-south.
[46] See Jacob Ware, “Western Far-Right Terrorism in 2025 and Beyond,” in this volume.
[47] Ibid.
[48] Singam, “Singapore.”
[49] Ibid.
[50] Ware, “Western Far-Right Terrorism.”
[51] See Alif Satria and Adlini Ilma Ghaisany Sjah, “Indonesia,” in this volume.
[52] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[53] Ibid.
[54] Ibid; Singam, “Singapore.”
[55] Singam, “Singapore.”
[56] See Antara Chakraborthy, “India,” in this volume.
[57] Ibid.
[58] Ibid.
[59] Ibid.
[60] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[61] Ibid.
[62] Halimi et al., “Weaponising Discontent.”
[63] Ibid.
[64] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[65] Halimi et al., “Weaponising Discontent.”
[66] Ibid.
[67] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[68] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[69] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[70] Ibid.
[71] Ibid.
[72] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[73] Wario, “Africa.”
[74] Singam, “Singapore.”
[75] Pravin Prakash, “Mapping the Ideological Core of Far-Right Movements Globally,” Center for the Study of Organized Hate, June 12, 2025, https://www.csohate.org/2025/06/12/mapping-global-far-right/.
[76] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[77] Pravin Prakash, “Far-Right Movements and the Existential Crisis of Modern Life,” Center for the Study of Organized Hate, July 18, 2025, https://www.csohate.org/2025/07/18/far-right-movements-modern-life-crisis/.
[78] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[79] Bashar, “Bangladesh.”
[80] Ibid.
[81] Ibid.
[82] Ibid.
[83] Ibid.
[84] Pantucci, “Central Asia.”
[85] Ibid.
[86] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[87] Arlina Arshad and Wahyudi Soeriaatmadja, “‘Justice for Affan’: Outrage In Jakarta After Delivery Rider Killed by Police Vehicle in Protest Clash,” The Straits Times, August 29, 2025, https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/se-asia/justice-for-affan-outrage-in-jakarta-after-motorbike-driver-dies-in-protest-clash.
[88] Mok et al., “Key Trends in Digital Extremism.”
[89] Ibid.
[90] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[91] Ibid.
[92] Ibid.
[93] Wario, “Africa.”
[94] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat.”
[95] Ibid.
[96] Ibid.
[97] Ibid.
[98] Ibid.
[99] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[100] Ibid.
[101] See Benjamin Mok and Iftekharul Bashar, “Myanmar,” in this volume.
[102] Ibid.
[103] Wario, “Africa.”
[104] Ibid.
[105] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[106] Ibid.
[107] Mok and Bashar, “Myanmar.”
[108] Ibid.
[109] Ibid.
[110] See Rungrawee Chalermsripinyorat and Dhiramedhist Lueng Ubon, “Thailand,” in this volume.
[111] Ibid.
[112] Ibid.
[113] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat.”
[114] Ibid.
[115] Ibid.
[116] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[117] Bashar, “Bangladesh.”
[118] Singam, “Singapore.”
[119] Cecilia Polizzi, “Youth Radicalisation: A New Frontier in Terrorism and Security,” Vision of Humanity, March 20, 2025, https://www.visionofhumanity.org/youth-radicalisation-a-new-frontier-in-terrorism-and-security/.
[120] Ware, “Western Far-Right Terrorism.”
[121] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat.”
[122] Ibid.
[123] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[124] Internal Security Department, Singapore Terrorism Threat Assessment Report 2025 (Ministry of Home Affairs, 2025): 8, https://www.mha.gov.sg/docs/librariesprovider3/sttar/singapore-terrorism-threat-assessment-report-2025.pdf.
[125] Ware, “Western Far-Right Terrorism.”
[126] Ibid.
[127] Bashar, “Bangladesh.”
[128] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[129] Wario, “Africa.”
[130] Ibid.
[131] Mok and Bashar, “Myanmar.”
[132] Ibid.
[133] Ibid.
[134] Status of Policing in India Report 2025: Police Torture and (Un)Accountability (Common Cause & Lokniti – Centre for the Study of Developing Societies, 2025), https://www.commoncause.in/wotadmin/upload/SPIR_2025.pdf.
[135] Chakraborthy, “India.”
[136] Ibid.
[137] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[138] Ibid.
[139] Singam, “Singapore.”
[140] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[141] Ibid.
[142] See Kenneth Yeo, “Philippines,” in this volume.
[143] Ibid.
[144] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[145] Ibid.
[146] Ibid.
[147] Ibid.
[148] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[149] Rueben Ananthan Santhana Dass, “Malaysia,” Counter Terrorist Trends and Analyses 17, no. 1 (2025), https://rsis.edu.sg/ctta-newsarticle/malaysia-2/.
[150] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[151] Mohamed Feisal Bin Mohamed Hassan and Ahmad Saiful Rijal Bin Hassan, “Reintegrating Extremists in Southeast Asia: Lessons in Deradicalisation and Rehabilitation,” Counter Terrorist Trends and Analyses 17, no. 1 (2025), https://rsis.edu.sg/ctta-newsarticle/reintegrating-extremists-in-southeast-asia-lessons-in-deradicalisation-and-rehabilitation/.
[152] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat.”
[153] “Syria: 20,000 Children in Al-Hawl Camp Need Intellectual Rehabilitation,” Alhurra, February 10, 2025, 2 min., 58 sec., Bing Videos.
[154] For assessments of the genuineness of JI’s disbandment, see Kumar Ramakrishna, “The Dissolution of Jemaah Islamiyah: Genuine Change or Tactical Switch?” RSIS Commentary, no. 105 (2024), https://www.rsis.edu.sg/rsis-publication/rsis/the-dissolution-of-jemaah-islamiyah-genuine-change-or-tactical-switch/. See also Noor Huda Ismail, “How Jemaah Islamiyah Has Morphed Since Its Disbandment,” RSIS Commentary, no. 156 (2025), https://rsis.edu.sg/rsis-publication/rsis/how-jemaah-islamiyah-has-morphed-since-its-disbandment/.
[155] Satria and Sjah, “Indonesia.”
[156] Ibid.
[157] Dass, “Malaysia.”
[158] Ibid.
[159] Yeo, “Philippines.”
[160] Singam, “Singapore.”
[161] Ibid.
[162] Soliman, “The Reshaped Terrorist Threat.”
[163] Ibid.
[164] Ibid.
[165] Wario, “Africa.”
[166] Basit, “Pakistan.”
[167] Chalermsripinyorat and Ubon, “Thailand.”
