Americans are eager to retaliate quickly for Tuesday''s brutal attacks in
New York and Washington. Nearly 90 percent of those surveyed supported
taking military action against those responsible even if it led to war,
according to a Tuesday-night Washington Post poll.
The desire for revenge at a moment like this is perfectly understandable:
We are traumatized as a nation. But striking back quickly is far less
important than discouraging future strikes by our enemies, and the two
are not the same. We cannot afford to allow an emotional desire for quick
retribution to override our long-term national security interests.
When seeking to deter, compel or appease their adversaries, smart
leaders first learn about their enemies'' desires and fears. It is not clear
that quick retaliation is what suicide bombers fear most. We cannot
punish the perpetrators; they are already dead. And the organizers of
these attacks obviously care more about taking revenge on us than they
do about their own security. Osama bin Laden, for example, is reported to
have said on Tuesday that he is ready to die, and that if the U.S. military
manages to kill him, hundreds more "Osamas" will take his place.
I have met some of these "Osamas." They appear in many countries and
subscribe to many religions. They are usually drawn to extremist
movements out of a feeling of severe deprivation -- whether
socioeconomic, political or psychological. Inside extremist groups, the
spiritually perplexed learn to focus on action. The weak become strong.
The selfish become altruists, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice of their
lives in the belief that their deaths will serve the public good.
Operatives I''ve interviewed describe the emotional satisfaction of their
work and the status they earn in their community. "One becomes
important due to his work. Successful operations make a militant famous
and glamorous among his fellow men," a trainer for a Pakistani group told
me.
Militants describe fighting as becoming a way of life. Jamal Al-Fadl, a
member of al Qaeda who became a witness for the U.S. government, said
that after the Soviet Union was defeated in Afghanistan, there were a
number of men who had been fighting so long that it was "the only thing
they really knew how to do." One long-term operative told me, "A person
addicted to heroin can get off it if he really tries, but a mujahed cannot
leave the jihad. I am spiritually addicted to jihad," he said.
Islamic scholars explain that the jihad doctrine actually delineates
acceptable behavior in war and, like the Western "just war tradition,"
explicitly outlaws terrorism. But in the extremist schools I have visited,
clerics, often barely trained themselves, preach a virulent version of
Islam, teaching their charges that murder is morally sanctioned and that
innocent people are fair prey.
Islam is not the only religion that produces such extremists. A Christian
militant who is now on death row for murder told me he was not trying to
appeal his death sentence. "The heightened threat, the more difficulties
forced on [me as] a Christian, the more joy I experience," he said. Jewish
extremists have repeatedly attacked the Dome of the Rock, despite
knowing that their actions could cause massive casualties or even war.
Terrorism''s greatest weapon is its popular support. When we attack with
inadequate intelligence and hit the wrong target or the right ones at the
wrong time, as we probably did when we retaliated for bin Laden''s 1998
attacks, we play right into our enemies'' hands. We look ineffectual. And
we strengthen our adversaries'' public relations and fundraising strategies.
After the American attacks in 1998, the head of a Pakistani militant group
that trains militants in Afghanistan immediately held a press conference
pronouncing, "Osama''s mission is our mission. It is the mission of the whole
Islamic world." The attacks did not enhance America''s image with the
mujaheddin I''ve interviewed, who describe Tomahawk missiles as weapons
for cowards too afraid to risk their lives in combat or to look their enemy
in the eye.
What does this mean for our national security strategy? Our leaders need
to commit themselves to a long, hard fight. We need to rely less on
high-tech intelligence and more on the old-fashioned kind. But this is a
war that must be fought on many fronts, using every tool at governments''
disposal: diplomacy, intelligence and, if we identify the perpetrator,
military strikes.
But force is not nearly enough. We need to drain the swamps where these
young men thrive. We can no longer afford to allow states to fail.
Afghanistan''s humanitarian and refugee crisis, which profoundly affects
Pakistan as well, has become a national security threat to the entire
world. We have a stake in the welfare of other peoples and need to
devote a much higher priority to health, education and economic
development, or new Osamas will continue to arise.
It matters what other people think of us. We need to think much more
seriously than we have about whether we are perceived by people in
other parts of the world as malevolent or benevolent. Being feared for our
military strength alone is not sufficient to guarantee our security.
Jessica Stern is a lecturer on terrorism at Harvard University''s Kennedy
School of Government. She is the author of "The Ultimate Terrorists."