Even
before September 11, hardly anyone was advocating terrorism--not
even those who regularly practice and support it. The
practice is indefensible now that it has been recognized,
like rape or murder, as an attack upon the innocent. The
victims of a terrorist attack are ordinary men and women,
eternal bystanders. There is no special reason for targeting
them. The attack is launched indiscriminately against
the entire class. Terrorists are like killers on a rampage,
except that their rampage is purposeful and programmatic.
It aims at a general vulnerability. Kill these people
in order to terrify those. A relatively small number of
dead victims makes for a very large number of living and
frightened hostages.
This
is the ramifying evil of terrorism: not just the killing
of innocent people but also the intrusion of fear into
everyday life, the violation of private purposes, the
insecurity of public spaces, the endless coerciveness
of precaution. A crime wave might produce similar effects,
but no one plans a crime wave; it is the work of a thousand
decision makers, each one independent of the others, brought
together only by the invisible hand. Terrorism is the
work of visible hands--an organizational project, a strategic
choice, a conspiracy to murder and intimidate. No wonder
the conspirators have difficulty justifying in public
the strategy that they have chosen.
But
when moral justification is ruled out, the way is opened
for ideological apology. In parts of the European and
American left, there has long existed a political culture
of excuses focused defensively on one or another of the
older terrorist organizations: the IRA, FLN, PLO, and
so on. The arguments are familiar enough, and their repetition
in the days since September 11 is no surprise. Still,
it is important to look at them closely and reject them
explicitly.
The
first excuse is that terror is a last resort. The image
is of oppressed and embittered people who have run out
of options. They have tried every legitimate form of political
action, exhausted every possibility, failed everywhere,
until no alternative remains but the evil of terrorism.
They must be terrorists or do nothing at all. The easy
response is that, given this description, they should
do nothing at all. But that doesn't engage the excuse.
It
is not so easy to reach the last resort. To get there,
one must indeed try everything (which is a lot of things)--and
not just once, as if a political party or movement might
organize a single demonstration, fail to win immediate
victory, and claim that it is now justified in moving
on to murder. Politics is an art of repetition. Activists
learn by doing the same thing over and over again. It
is by no means clear when they run out of options. The
same argument applies to state officials who claim that
they have tried everything and are now compelled to kill
hostages or bomb peasant villages. What exactly did they
try when they were trying everything?
Could
anyone come up with a plausible list? "Last resort"
has only a notional finality. The resort to terror is
not last in an actual series of actions; it is last only
for the sake of the excuse. Actually, most terrorists
recommend terror as a first resort; they are for it from
the beginning.
The
second excuse is that they are weak and can't do anything
else. But two different kinds of weakness are commonly
confused here: the weakness of the terrorist organization
vis-à-vis its enemy and its weakness vis-à-vis
its own people. It is the second type--the inability of
the organization to mobilize its own people--that makes
terrorism the option and effectively rules out all the
others: political action, nonviolent resistance, general
strikes, mass demonstrations. The terrorists are weak
not because they represent the weak but precisely because
they don't--because they have been unable to draw the
weak into a sustained oppositional politics. They act
without the organized political support of their own people.
They may express the anger and resentment of some of those
people, even a lot of them. But they have not been authorized
to do that, and they have made no attempt to win any such
authorization. They act tyrannically and, if they win,
will rule in the same way.
The
third excuse holds that terrorism is neither the last
resort nor the only possible resort, but the universal
resort. Everybody does it; that's what politics (or state
politics) really is; it's the only thing that works. This
argument has the same logic as the maxim "All's fair
in love and war." Love is always fraudulent, war
is always murderous, and politics always requires terror.
In fact, the world the terrorists create has its entrances
and exits; we don't always live there. If we want to understand
the choice of terror, we have to imagine what must often
occur (although we have no satisfactory record of this):
A group of men and women, officials or activists, sits
around a table and argues about whether or not to adopt
a terrorist strategy. Later on, the litany of excuses
obscures the argument. But at the time, around the table,
it would have been of no use for defenders of terrorism
to say, "Everybody does it," because they were
face-to-face with people proposing to do something else.
Terrorism commonly has its origins in arguments of this
sort. Its first victims are the terrorists' former colleagues,
the ones who said no to terrorism. What reason can we
have for equating these two groups?
The
fourth excuse plays on the notion of innocence. Of course,
it is wrong to kill the innocent, but these victims aren't
entirely innocent. They are the beneficiaries of oppression;
they enjoy its tainted fruits. And so, while their murder
isn't justifiable, it is ... understandable. What else
could they expect? Well, the children among them, and
even the adults, have every right to expect a long life
like anyone else who isn't actively engaged in war or
enslavement or ethnic cleansing or brutal political repression.
This is called noncombatant immunity, the crucial principle
not only of war but of any decent politics. Those who
give it up for a moment of schadenfreude are not simply
making excuses for terrorism; they have joined the ranks
of terror's supporters.
The
last excuse is the claim that all the obvious and conventionally
endorsed responses to terror are somehow worse than terrorism
itself. Any coercive political or military action is denounced
as revenge, the end of civil liberty, the beginning of
fascism. The only morally permitted response is to reconsider
the policies that the terrorists claim to be attacking.
Here, terrorism is viewed from the side of the victims
as a kind of moral prompting: Oh, we should have thought
of that!
I
have heard all these excuses in the past few days--often
expressed along with great indignation at the chorus of
national unity and determination. But the last two have
been the most common. We bomb Iraq, we support the Israelis,
and we are the allies of repressive Arab regimes like
Saudi Arabia and Egypt. What else can we expect? Leave
aside the exaggerated and distorted descriptions of American
wickedness that underpin these excuses. There is a lot
to criticize in our country's foreign policy over the
past decades. Many of us on the American liberal-left
have spent the bulk of our political lives opposing the
use of violence by the U.S. government (though I and most
of my friends supported the Gulf War, which ranks high
in the standard version of the fourth excuse). As Americans,
we have our own brutalities to answer for--as well as
the brutalities of other states that we have armed and
funded. None of this, however, excuses terrorism; none
of it even makes terrorism morally understandable. Maybe
psychologists have something to say on behalf of understanding.
But the only political response to ideological fanatics
and suicidal holy warriors is implacable opposition.