Author: Tapas Ray
Publication: The Statesman
Date: September 23, 2001
Introduction: The responses of some
well-known public intellectuals to Terror Tuesday and its aftermath leave
much to be desired
A Joseph Conrad novel has a character
explaining the logic of terrorist violence to an anarchist. Mere destructive
ferocity is not the goal, he says. Nor is butchery, as "murder is always
with us" and the plotters are, in any case, too "civilised" to stoop so
low. The agent is advised to blow up the Greenwich observatory instead,
as "the demonstration must be against learning - science."
The agents of Black Tuesday, September
11, clearly had a different goal. They were not targeting the very basis
of modernity as Conrad's anarchists were. They were merely attacking the
most visible symbols of US financial, cultural and military supremacy in
a unipolar world. Partly because of the unique place these targets occupied
in popular imagination globally, and partly because their action was consciously
genocidal, this attack perhaps packed a far greater symbolic punch than
any attack on Greenwich in the early 20th century (the period Conrad was
writing about) could have achieved.
Since this is a war of signs to
a large extent, it may be worthwhile to consider the manner in which terrorism
is understood. As JP Burgess has noted in his review of James Der Derian's
book, Antidiplomacy: Spies, Terror, Speed, and War, terrorism is the threat
of the "other" from within, and terror is a sense of ever-present danger,
the understanding deep down oneself that no barrier is high enough to provide
protection from the "other." Since terrorism relies on symbolic power,
Burgess notes, the "counter-strategy has to be positioned at the level
of the sign."
President Bush's recent speeches
clearly show that he and his aides understand this. Speaking at a joint
session of Congress, he said the present task was to "defend freedom."
Thus, the war is not just of America or the West against a clutch of terrorists,
but of civilised society as a whole, cutting across national boundaries,
against the enemies of freedom, against the barbarians at the gate. There
are other powerful frames being used as well by American leaders, such
as, good vs. evil, even "crusade." President Bush's earlier words, heard
repeatedly on TV - "We will hunt them down, we will smoke 'em out of their
holes" - indicate that the enemy was being placed, rhetorically, at a level
below human, at the level of snakes that take refuge in holes dug in the
ground by other creatures.
While condemnation of the attacks
has been unanimous in India, a jarring note was heard from certain people,
who deserve attention solely because they lead, or are sympathetic to,
a political party that exercises a degree of control over the lives of
people in two states. A member of the CPI-M politburo recently said that
the large-scale loss of life on September 11 was regrettable, but the attacks
were a symptom of resistance to US imperialism. A few individuals openly
admired the "successful" strikes, which had "broken the USA's pride." That
the CPI-M has condemned the outrage is not relevant here - there is little
else it could have done without attracting contempt and ridicule. What
is relevant is the poverty of thought displayed by such reactions.
Leaving aside the question of common
human decency, one is tempted to ask these gentlemen whether, by the same
logic, it would be justified for members of one community to organise terrorist
attacks on another if they viewed the latter as oppressive. One may also
ask whether the people of a state would be justified in blowing up trains,
buses, planes and public buildings because they saw India as a colonial
power occupying their state.
There could be many variations on
this theme, but it would be more productive to turn one's attention to
others, who are more deserving of one's time.
Over the last few days, a section
of academics in the West have been making serious attempts to arrive at
rational responses to Tuesday's events. On this task, they have brought
to bear all the intellectual equipment at their disposal, including theoretical
knowledge in such fields as anthropology, culture and philosophy, as well
as logic and "plain common sense." There has been a marked absence of jingoism
or flag-waving nationalism in their discussions. Sometimes impassioned,
as is only to be expected immediately after such an enormous tragedy, they
have tried to wrestle with, among other things, the moral implications
of the strike and the planned US response, from all angles -including the
terrorists' point of view. This, however, is in sharp contrast to the reactions
of some of their more famous colleagues - certain "public intellectuals"
especially dear to those who fancy themselves as Marxists. One of them
is Edward Said, known for his sharp intellect, but one whose faculties
seem to have been affected by the apocalyptic events of Tuesday last. "'Islam'
and 'the West'," he wrote in a piece published on Sunday, September 16,
"are simply inadequate as banners to follow blindly. Some will run behind
them, but for future generations to condemn themselves to prolonged war
and suffering without so much as a critical pause, without looking at interdependent
histories of injustice and oppression, without trying for common emancipation
and mutual enlightenment seems far more wilful than necessary." No one
will dispute the need for a critical pause, but to anyone who has followed
developments since Black Tuesday, it should be clear that no Western leader
has framed the conflict in "Islam vs West" terms. If anyone did, it was
Osama bin Laden and the Taliban.
"Demonisation of the Other," Said
went on, "is not a sufficient basis for any kind of decent politics, certainly
not now when the roots of terror in injustice can be addressed, and the
terrorists isolated, deterred or put out of business." Demonisation there
certainly has been, but the professor seems to have missed the point that
the terrorists have been demonised, not all Muslims. President Bush and
other leaders have made special efforts to ensure that Muslims in general,
and people with features similar to Arabs, do not suffer.
Said also points out that terrorism
has been used for progressive causes, such as the ANC's struggle against
apartheid. This may be an indirect way of establishing a "rational" causality
for Black Tuesday. The implications of such reasoning - as this writer
has pointed out above - are alarming. As per this reasoning, any group
that feels disenfranchised or disempowered, is justified in attacking "soft"
civilian targets.
But Said is not alone. Noam Chomsky,
another intellectual of very high stature, and toast of the Bengal Marxists,
has also shown signs of stress. His basic thesis, in a short piece published
on Sunday, September 16, was sound - that the attacks would put Palestinians
and other "poor and oppressed people" in greater difficulty than they are
now in, and give the US the excuse to curb civil liberties at home. But
he, too, seems to find justification for the attacks in past US behaviour.
What strikes one the most, however,
is his remark that "the primary victims, as usual, were working people:
janitors, secretaries, firemen, etc." One is left to wonder if he already
has the full demographics of the more than 6,000 people declared or feared
dead, and whether he would have been a little less sad if the "primary
victims" were wealthy stockbrokers.
One also wonders where, on his sadness
scale, he would place the middle-class Indian software professionals and
the restaurant manager from Manipur - brother of a former Statesman correspondent
- who were in the World Trade Centre when it collapsed. These are testing
times. It is sad that brilliant minds are tottering precisely when they
are needed the most. The author is a Special Representative, The Statesman.
