On Terrorism
Eric Rudolph’s recent guilty pleas have reminded me of something that we too often forget: For all of the (absolutely legitimate) concerns about Muslim Fundamentalist terrorism, in the history of the United States the worst terrorists in terms of body counts, number of attacks, or the level of threat they posed to the American ideals of liberty, freedom, democracy and justice have been radically right-wing white men. Rudolph has pled guilty to four bombings, and officials know that he was probably responsible for more carnage and attempted mayhem. Rudolph’s agenda was both clear and highly ideological, one of the main components of any definition of terrorism. Indeed he made it quite apparent that his reckless murders came about as a result of his opposition to abortion (right to life, indeed).
One need look no further than the thousands of documented lynchings in the South (indeed in America generally) in the seventy-five years after the 1880s, not to mention countless other acts of violence against African Americans, including civil rights activists, returning World War II veterans who refused to acquiesce to white supremacy, victims of sexual mores designed putatively to protect the virtue of white womanhood while at the same time keeping women in a box of sexism and patriarchy, and yet others who fell victim simply by virtue of bad luck, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I think about this pervasive form of violence, terrorism that has far deeper and more profound impact on the history of the United States than 9/11, when I try to tie global terrorism into the American experience, something I am trying to do both in a course on global terrorism that I have been teaching at UTPB this term and for a book on terrorism that I am at work on these days. If, for example, it is acceptable to engage in racial profiling for Muslim men in airports, why not for white men in all government buildings? If terrorism is always an act of war, why is the government allowing Rudolph to plead guilty to crimes? And was Margaret Thatcher then wrong in assigning criminal status to IRA prisoners in the 1980s? This decision led not only to the Blanket protest, Dirty protest and Hunger Strikes of the period from 1976 to 1981, but also that increased the scope and intensity of IRA terror campaigns. Is the answer possibly more complex? Can we not recognize that terrorism can be an act of war, a vicious crime, and simultaneously something else?
I also think about the cynical way that the very use of the words “terror,” “terrorist” and “terrorism” has manifested in the past. The Bush administration has insisted time and time again of accusing Iraqi insurgents attacking military targets, including US troops, of being terrorists, and yet if that is the case, then when our attacks fell civilians, are we also not terrorists? I do not think so, but sloppiness of terminology intended to propagandize our cause against the enemy leads to such thoughts. Our enemies can be bad, wrong, even evil, but if terrorism is simply anything we say that it is, then it must be true that one man’s freedom fighter is another’s terrorist. I do not believe this to be true, indeed I am ardently against it, but the cynical use and misuse of these terms suggests that it must be so. After all, the South African government, with a huge assist from the state-run media, referred to all anti-apartheid opponents as terrorists even when it was the Apartheid government using force against civilians to maintain its political system. Calling someone a terrorist does not make it so.
And what of settlers and settler colonies? I think in particular of the two Rhodesias and Kenya and South Africa, but it holds for Israel as well. Are settlers in a colonial endeavor really just civilians? If land is taken by force and people live on that land with the imprimatur of the colonizers, are they thus given some sort of halo of protection? Were those who carried out Mau Mau really terrorists for attacking those who had no business on their lands? I only partially exempt Israel because the West Bank and Gaza came into Israel’s possession as a result of a war declared on Israel by neighboring nation states who held title to those contested lands, but even then, I am a lot more conflicted about casualties among the increasingly intransigent, disruptive and noisome settlers than I am about casualties in Tel Aviv or Jerusalem or Netanya.
These are random thoughts, episodic and indicative of the sorts of issues with which I am wrestling these days. There are no easy answers, and with the exception of those who seek a foolish consistency, sometimes the answers that do emerge will appear contradictory – Israel is not Kenya, after all, and each has different historical circumstances even if on narrow grounds there may be much to compare. Wrestling with these difficult questions can be frustrating but, as with all work of this nature, it can also be immensely rewarding, especially if it can contribute to a discussion in the public arena in which these issues are handled, and maybe even resolved.