Can we ever defeat terrorism?

We are fighting a very different war, against a very unconventional enemy. Can traditional miltary tactics succeed, or will they make matters worse?

Much has happened in the two and a half years since September 11th. In the name of fighting terrorism, we have seen the largest military mobilisation in a decade, invasion and regime change in two countries and “collateral” deaths of thousands of Iraqi and Afghan civilians.

We have also seen terrorism continue with unprecedented ferocity. Bomb attacks from Madrid to Bali have killed over 600 innocents. Saddam Hussein may have been captured, but attacks against the occupation forces in Iraq continue. Osama bin Laden, Mullah Mohammed Omar and many other high ranking al-Qa'ida operatives remain free. Our leaders constantly remind us that it is only a matter of time before Britain has it's own September 11th. The time has come to ask our governments some big questions. Who are we fighting? What are we fighting for? And, most importantly, can we win?

The war on terror is very different to past conflicts. For hundreds of years, states have held a monopoly on the practice of warfare. Great armies met in pitched battle; flags were staked over conquered territory. It was an art we had perfected to such a degree that it began to threaten our very survival.

But Al-Qa’ida is not a foe like Nazi Germany or the Soviet Union. Even after being the focus of one of the biggest intelligence operations in history, it is almost impossible to define, let alone locate. Its command structure is highly decentralised; it has no territorial limits; its financial network is thinly spread. As we saw in Afghanistan, when the situation become difficult, it can simply melt away into the wilderness, moving into lawless areas such as the frontier with Pakistan.

Al-Qa’ida’s global reach gives it remarkable political power. Recordings of Osama’s anti-American diatribes circle the globe within minutes of their release. Equally, graphic images of their attacks spread fear and insecurity into living rooms everywhere. Terrorists have always used fear as a force-multiplier, but modern communications have taken this to unprecedented levels. In many ways, al-Qa’ida is a perfect example of a modern globalised organisation.

Faced with such adversaries, the uncontested superiority of the US military does not look so secure. It is simply not designed for such a job. Large-scale, inter-state conflict is its speciality. It can oust the Taliban or Saddam without breaking its stride, but faced with elusive foes and guerilla tactics, it does not fare so well. That the US has now lost more soldiers in “peacetime” than during the conventional war in both Iraq and Afghanistan is testimony to this inadequacy.

A military victory over terrorism does not seem viable. The actions of the US and Britain so far seem to have strengthened al-Qa'ida's hand. Every civilian casualty adds their friends and relatives to the legion of potential terrorist recruits. Every military operation makes the US look more like the anti-Islamic imperialist that Osama bin Laden portrays it to be. Indeed, we may be playing right into the hands of bin Laden. Since the war on terror began, the US has become more isolated than ever. Relations with traditional allies are strained and it is increasingly despised in the Arab world. Even domestic support for Bush is weakening as the high cost of war hits home, both in terms of lives and dollars.

But the most significant factor behind the coalition’s failure to stamp out terrorism is that it is simply not trying. Bush and Blair’s rhetoric about “ridding the world of evil” and “defending civilisation from dark forces”, is all Hollywood. When they talk about terrorism, they are ignoring half of the story.

History reveals that international terrorism is neither new, nor the sole preserve of “evil men”. In fact, it has had a long and useful history in the hands of government, especially in defence of empire. In 1920, the British army had no qualms about consolidating power in their new colonial possession of Iraq with bombs and chemical weapons. Referring to the rebellious Kurds, Winston Churchill, then a colonial secretary, argued strongly in favour of, “using poison gas against uncivilised tribes.”

In 1986, the US government became the first country found guilty by the World Court of using ‘unlawful force’ for its proxy war against Sandanistan Nicaragua. Indeed, its doctrine of “low-intensity warfare”, so successfully exported to Latin America in the seventies and eighties, is a virtual textbook of terrorist tactics.

Yet we do not recognise this as terrorism. The US State Department’s own definition of terrorism as, “premeditated, politically motivated violence perpetrated against non-combatant targets by sub-national groups or clandestine agents,” precludes any involvement by noble states such as our own. In this framework, the Palestinian suicide bomber who kills innocent civilians by blowing himself up in Haifa is a terrorist, but the Israeli pilot who does the same by firing missiles into an apartment building in Gaza is not.

Our war on terror is not a crusade against all forms of political violence directed against civilians. It is a fight against specific forms of this, generally perpetrated by non-state entities against superior state powers. Our own use of terror is not on the negotiation table.

Yet, our promotion of terror is the core of the problem. Al-Qa’ida was a product of the CIA’s intervention in Afghanistan, drawing the USSR into a trap that was instrumental in its demise. The resulting destruction of Afghan society was a side issue that did not concern us until it we experienced “blowback” in the form of the World Trade Centre attacks. As political commentator Noam Chomsky observed, “the US was happy to support [al-Qa’ida’s] hatred and violence when it was directed against US enemies; it is not happy when the hatred it helped nurture is directed against the US.”

But the world has changed since then. We can no longer expect the terrible consequences of our interventions in other corners of the globe to stay where they belong. Just as globalisation allows the free flow of money, goods and ideas across all boundaries, so it allows the flow of violence and terror. The phenomenon of global terrorism is a logical outcome of the system, as much as the multi-national corporation or the WTO.

Ignoring ruined states like Afghanistan and Somalia, or propping-up brutal dictators, only deepens what Professor Chomsky called, “a reservoir of bitterness and anger over US policies in the region,” from which al-Qa’ida draws its support.

Unfortunately, the US and its allies are still treading the old paths; thugs and murderers remain our comrades in arms. The choice of the Northern Alliance (whose period of rule from 1992-95 was described by Human Rights Watch as, “the worst in Afghanistan’s history,”) as “liberators” of Afghanistan is unlikely to encourage a rebirth of law and order. US attempts in Iraq to replace the, “Tikriti thug with an embezzler," are likely to fare no better. Violence continues to escalate in both countries; America’s own military commanders claim the Taliban is resurgent in Afghanistan and the since the invasion Iraq has become a haven for foreign terrorists.

Shortly after September 11th, writer Arundhati Roy said: “It's absurd for the US government to even toy with the notion that it can stamp out terrorism with more violence and oppression. Terrorism is the symptom, not the disease.” If our leaders plan to win this war, they would do well to listen to her advice. If we are to be free of terror, we must renounce our own use of it. If we want to live our lives in peace and prosperity, we must allow others the same luxury. What September 11th showed most clearly is that nobody is untouchable; in this globalized world, our security is also their security.