Although published in 2011, Steven Kull's Feeling Betrayed: The Roots of Muslim Anger at America reads as though it was written in another era. At times Kull's analysis reflects the early expressions of shock and anger after the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks revealed in the simple (and simplistic) statements of “why do they hate us?” and “either you are with us or you are with the terrorists.” At other times his generalizations and pseudo-psychoanalysis cloaked in social-science jargon resemble that of 1950s and 1960s modernization theorists. Kull writes that 9/11 led him “to ask what was occurring in the larger Muslim society that could have bred this extreme hostility” (vii). This sentiment of associating (and blaming) an entire society – as if there is a such a thing as a single, homogeneous “Muslim society” – with the actions of a small, unrepresentative group forms the core of Feeling Betrayed's argument and is the source of its main weakness.

Kull is a political psychologist and director of the University of Maryland's Center on Policy Attitudes and the Program on International Policy Attitudes, as well as of WorldPublicOpinion.org. The book's premise, he explains, “is that the problem of terrorism does not simply lie in the small number of people who join terrorist organizations. Rather the existence of terrorist organizations is a symptom of tension in the larger society that finds a particularly virulent expression in certain individuals” (8). Adapting an article by Bryn Mawr psychology professor Clark McCauley, Kull contends that the relationship between terrorist organizations and their society is “like a pyramid” (8). At the base of the pyramid are all the individuals who hold “negative views of U.S. foreign policy,” while the apex comprises the actual terrorist groups. The middle consists of those who provide passive or active support for the terrorist groups. Thus, according to Kull, anyone and everyone who objects to US foreign policy broadly defined provides comfort (if not direct aid) to terrorists (8–9).

To validate his claims, Kull draws on focus groups and public-opinion polls conducted in a number of majority-Muslim countries. This includes focus groups and polls conducted in Egypt, Indonesia, Morocco, and Pakistan (2006–7 and 2008), as well as polling in Azerbaijan, Bangladesh, Iran, Iraq, Jordan, the Palestinian Territories, and Turkey (2007–9). The sample sizes ranged from 583 to 1,243 individuals. In addition, he utilizes polls conducted by a variety of other organizations (6). Even in democratic societies where public-opinion polls have been performed for decades, they are a problematic data source (see Justin Lewis, Constructing Public Opinion (2001), among others). Yet Kull not only offers the poll results from countries which are not liberal democracies (and in some cases are under active military occupation) without question or comment, he also adopts a mix-and-match approach of different polls with varying methodologies.

In spite of the extensive polling, the analysis is wanting. According to Kull, not only is al Qaeda thriving and enjoying widespread support across the Muslim world, he asserts that it is also the “prime articulator” of “the narrative of Muslim oppression by the West” (195). Yet even before Osama bin Laden was killed in Pakistan in May 2011 by US special forces, these claims were dubious at best (see Fawaz Gerges, The Rise and Fall of Al-Qaeda (2011)). Indeed, Kull concedes that while there is anger at the US and strong disagreement with its policies, “many Muslims do not approve of al-Qaeda, and large majorities disapprove of such tactics as attacking civilians” (195).

What explains this disparity? Kull states that Muslims suffer from “an inner clash of civilizations,” between their “attraction to liberal ideas and the pluralistic world it implies, and their desire to preserve their traditional cultures.” He adds that “the struggle between these impulses creates cultural and political instability in many Muslim countries. It leads to overt conflict between organized forces pulling in opposite directions along the lines of this polarity” (27). It is a wholly unoriginal argument whose main premise has been refuted many times since historian Bernard Lewis first proffered it in the late 1950s (and repeated it for decades) and it was adapted in the 1990s by the late political scientist Samuel Huntington (see Edward Said, “The Clash of Ignorance,” The Nation, 4 October 2001, for one example). Like Lewis and Huntington, Kull conflates (and confuses) civilization, culture, religion, and identity while ignoring historical context and political and economic realities. Moreover, nations, societies, and cultures are far more dynamic, interactive, and interdependent than the intellectual and ideological adherents to the “clash-of-civilizations” myth realize or are willing to admit.

Adding to the disjointed nature of Feeling Betrayed are the recommendations presented in the final chapter, which are remarkably reasonable – if not outlandish – considering the analysis they are based upon. This includes reducing the military footprint of the US in the Muslim world, differentiating America from Israel, and supporting democracy in the Muslim world.

Although Feeling Betrayed is written for scholars and policymakers it is unlikely to appeal to either group. Scholars, especially those in Middle East and South Asian studies, will scoff at Kull's characterizations and essentializations. Meanwhile, policymakers are unlikely to heed Kull's suggestions – indeed, they have already been ignored by the Obama administration. Moreover, his analysis of the Arab and Muslim worlds and of al Qaeda's influence has been outpaced (and disproven) by the Arab revolutions and counterrevolutions and by bin Laden's death. Feeling Betrayed is a deeply flawed and derivative work that offers little insight or value except to those who are already predisposed to its arguments.