Carr,
Caleb. 2002. The Lessons of Terror: A history of warfare against
civilians, why it has always failed and why it will fail again.
New York: Random House.
The
war on terrorism rages on. You know you should read up on it;
itŐs important to be informed. But all the books are so depressing.
Who wants to read about ever more insidious microbes that float
down from the sky or arrive in the morning mail to kill you with
ever more horrible, ever more incurable plagues? Or, poisonous
gases that float unseen to blister and pustulate your skin and
throat, or nerve agents that short circuit your ganglions and
make you quiver, belly up, like a cockroach zapped with Raid as
it scurries up your kitchen wall. And, then, there are dirty bombs,
as if the clean ones were not horrible enough.
No,
terrorism is just too depressing to read about; yet, you know
you should read something. What you need is a fun book, a hopeful
book, a book that makes you think without making you double your
Prozac intake. If this is your situation, then Caleb Carr's The
Lessons of Terror is for you.
First
off, Carr's book is not about terrorism. Instead, it is about
terror, a closely related cousin. Terrorism is an ideological
pathology that causes the infected disaffected to believe that
'affect' is more powerful and real than 'effect'. Most disaffected
people strain and struggle to effect change in the world, for
example, by feeding the hungry, clothing the destitute, or sheltering
the homeless. It is very frustrating work, sometimes dangerous,
but it is real work and, within limits, it is effective. People's
lives change; sometimes whole political systems change.
In
sickening contrast, a minuscule minority of the world's disaffected
believe that the media splash generated by killing innocent people
and destroying the symbols of power - the World Trade Center or
the Pentagon, for example - will actually effect positive change.
But the symbols of power are but the shadow of power, and the
media affects much, but produces no effects. True, the influence
of the media is often needed to effect change, but, without real
power and real work, no real justice is possible. Peacekeepers
and aid workers know this; terrorists do not.
If
terrorism is an ideological pathology, terror is simple brutality.
It is the joy with which the Christian knights of the First Crusade
consecrated their capture of Jerusalem by slaughtering its population,
men women and, children (p. 42-6). This is the solid heart of
Carr's book, as his subtitle advertises, "A history of warfare
against civilians, why it has always failed and why it will fail
again." Although infinitely tragic, Carr's claim is hopeful. Mindless
brutality and the killing of innocent civilians may always be
with us; yet, we always overcome them in the end.
This
is the hopeful, uplifting part of The Lessons of Terror - terror
does not pay. The fun part is the evidence Carr uses to support
his claim. Racing through world history from ancient Rome through
the Taiping Rebellion to the Bay of Pigs to September 11 in 250
pages, Carr is forced to rely, perhaps too much, on extremely
broad generalizations: "In other words, military history alone
can teach us the lessons that will solve the dilemma..." (p. 14).
Military historians might well agree, but the assertion ignores
the contributions psychology, sociology, demography, and, above
all, developmental economics can make. Few would deny that a more
equitable distribution of the world's wealth would do much to
drain the swamp of frustration and resentment in which brutality
thrives.
Even
more fun is Carr's call to disband the CIA (p. 238-9, 242) as
one way to improve America. It is an amusing idea, one that many
could support. But, one wonders, how realistic it is.
For
more fun, there is the outrageousness of much of Carr's commentary:
"Thus [in the War of 1812], the British gratuitously destroyed
important structures during the Washington campaign (and killed
many innocent civilians) because those buildings were obnoxious
symbols of American [democratic] values whose spread and propagation
the British government feared would spell the disempowerment of
its own" (p. 134). This is all good Anglophobic stuff. However,
it ignores, first, that neither the just-completed White House
nor the unfinished Capitol were symbols of anything in 1812 and,
second, that America, not Britain, had started the war, opportunistically
attacking Britain while she was courageously defending freedom
and democracy by defeating Napoleonic imperialism.
Still,
in the end, with all its failings, despite teaching nothing about
terrorism, The Lessons of Terror is a good book. It provides some
amusement, a tragically hopeful conclusion, and much food for
thought on the related issue of inhuman brutality: "...whenever
and wherever such [terror] tactics have been indulged, they have
been and are still destined ultimately to fail" (p. 14).
If the hate-filled leaders of the world would only take this simple
conclusion to heart, most of the complex humanitarian crises of
our times could be avoided. Terrorism might well persist, but
the large, million-plus-person political crises would be eliminated.

Brien
Hallett is an Associate Professor at the Matsunaga Institute for
Peace, University of Hawai'i and Director of its Program on Disaster
Management and Humanitarian Assistance.
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