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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780745319629 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Pluto Press |
| Publication date: | 08/20/2002 |
| Edition description: | Reprint |
| Pages: | 272 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.32(w) x 8.46(h) x 0.70(d) |
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CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION: WITNESSING 'TERROR', ANTICIPATING 'WAR'
Phil Scraton
First thoughts
Trying to make sense – emotional, physical, political – of September 11, I return to my initial reactions and responses. Like so many others across the world, via satellite I witnessed truly horrifying scenes of scarcely believable atrocity. Filmed from every conceivable angle the second passenger aircraft imploded the twin tower. Its nose-cone, having passed through the building, was instantly engulfed in flames. At that 'live by satellite' moment, the collapse of the entire World Trade Center inevitable, the realisation dawned that the dual crashes were no coincidence. Both aircraft had been piloted, purposefully and accurately, into their targets. As news broke, telling of two other planes crashing, one into the Pentagon, the second out of control in Pennsylvania, the immensity and significance of these disasters became apparent. They had to be the dreadful end-product of effective and efficient collaboration involving groups working together, carefully planning and acquiring skills. These were not random targets. The World Trade Center, bomb damaged just eight years earlier, and the Pentagon represented hugely symbolic as well as material targets.
In a Verona hotel room we watched the dramatic live transmissions from downtown Manhattan. Firefighters and rescuers raced into the disaster zone passing dust-covered, ghost-like workers coming from the opposite direction – running or staggering for their lives. Cameras homed in on others trapped in offices high above the flames, some throwing themselves from windows to avoid choking or burning to death. As the towers collapsed, clouds of grey toxic dust covered all and everything in their path. Then came the first reports of agonised telephone calls made from one of the planes and by those facing death trapped in their offices. These were final goodbyes to loved ones. They reminded me of rescue workers recounting disaster scenes where the only sounds they could hear, as they listened for potential survivors, were those of mobile phones ringing from the debris as desperate relatives tried to make contact.
The carnage of September 11 could not have been anticipated. The total destruction of one of the world's largest building complexes, the deaths of between three and four thousand civilian workers (estimated at 10,000 at the time) raised a terrifying question: where next? Throughout these early moments I was shocked. Shocked by the callous ferocity of the attacks, the randomness of death and suffering, the capacity and ability of the hijackers to puncture the US security network at so many levels, the ease with which they must have lived to prepare for their complex, devastating project. Individually and collectively, they had made a mockery of the world's most advanced and expensive intelligence services. Their acts – crimes against humanity – were derived from a reasoned hatred, a distorted fundamentalism that transformed belief, intellect and compassion into a mutant, predatory 'final solution' politics. Yet, to portray such men as psychopathic killers, whose 'lust for blood' emanates from individual or cultural pathology, diminishes the historical, political and economic contexts which fed and nurtured their absolute moral purpose.
Terrifying acts are not conceived in a political vacuum. They become broadly and popularly defined within the management and manipulation of 'identity'. Their status is ascribed through a familiar vocabulary that slips easily and casually from the tongue, grabs headlines and captures – then imprisons – imagination. It is a vocabulary which demonises, vilifies and distances: deliver 'us' from 'evil'; the 'massacre' of the 'innocent'; 'wicked' beyond 'humanity'; 'savages', not 'humans'; 'barbarism' versus 'civilisation'. In such accounts, so depraved are the perpetrators, so far removed are they from 'our' world, that they are aberrant and beyond redemption. They are 'other', not only outsiders and outlaws, but a sub-species. Their threat is not restricted to a collective rejection of 'our' Christian, social democratic values but extends to a commitment of our eradication. It is a dangerous construction invariably leading to an abandonment of the rule of law and established rules of engagement. If the 'enemy' is beneath contempt, the war against it can be unconditional.
The events of September 11 leave no doubts about the lengths to which some individuals, groups and organisations are prepared to go in the use of violence. Unique in terms of the operation, the claiming of so many civilian lives through co-ordinated acts of terror is hardly unusual. Terror is a strategy which ostentatiously denies the conventions of 'acceptable' conflict. Its purpose is to demonstrate as widely as possible a disregard for the boundaries or limits to formal combat. To strike terror into the heart of an identifiable community is to frighten people so deeply that they lose trust and confidence in all aspects of routine daily life. Yet, to demonise perpetrators, to represent their humaneness as monstrousness, creates and sustains a climate within which a deeper understanding of historical, political and cultural contexts is inhibited and is replaced by an all-consuming will to vengeance.
Following the devastation at the World Trade Center two highly visible and emotional expressions of grief and sympathy replaced the initial shock of the attacks. First was the presence in lower Manhattan of those in search of the missing. In scenes reminiscent of old, grainy and faded photographs of relatives at pitheads quietly awaiting news of loved ones lost underground, families and friends clustered together, as close as permitted to the area designated for all time as Ground Zero. They carried treasured photographs and written descriptions, many photocopied and pasted on walls, hoardings and makeshift notice boards. These became dignified shrines to lost lives.
Second, and displaying a kind of civic commitment to supporting the gruesome yet hapless search for survivors, was the ever-changing mass of people out on the streets applauding firefighters and rescuers as they changed shifts. Unable to assist directly, it was as if those who stood with banners and flags, many travelling long distances to be there, felt impelled to 'do something'. Undoubtedly, whatever the motives of individuals, this public recognition of the pain and loss endured by the rescue and recovery teams was much appreciated. Many firefighting precincts had lost officers, even entire crews.
How easy it is to hijack the spirit of grief, the heartfelt expressions of sympathy and the public displays of empathy. When, eventually, the US President – at first conspicuous by his absence – made his appearance in New York, the mood shifted to that of vengeance masquerading as the pursuit of justice in defence of global freedom. Returning to my emotions of those late September days, as firefighters posed Iwo Jima-style to plant the Stars and Stripes on the mountain of rubble that had claimed so many lives, I was not surprised by the attacks. Bush and his hawks, presumably with whom he had been planning a war schedule behind closed doors, reminded me of US insularity and the simplicity of a mindset that reduces complex political-economic and socio-cultural dynamics to the ranch barbeque discourse of 'good folks' and 'bad folks', to the civilised (meaning Western values) and the barbarians at 'our' gates, to allies and enemies. Suddenly the president with a dubious mandate to hold office, a man who when questioned did not know the name of the president of Pakistan, had been catapulted centre stage into a world political crisis.
Shocked, but not surprised; that was my initial reaction. Shocked by the 'success' of those terrible and terrifying missions, by the repeated failures of international surveillance and security systems and by the consolidation of deep religious convictions that could recast suicide and murder as a holy war. But not surprised. The insularity of a richly diverse and intricate union of states, which continually reveals itself as an aggressive political-economic and cultural coloniser, stifles critical and informed debate. The US projects its military-industrial complex, its command of material resources and cultural transmission with an absolute certainty that its WASP-ish dominant ideologies and lifestyles are both right and righteous. Through this combination of material and cultural absolutism all who supply resources, open their borders, agree to unfair terms of investment and buy into the American Dream are friends. The rest are foes.
And so ... to war
No country lightly commits forces to military action and the inevitable risks involved. The military action we are taking will be targeted against places we know to be involved in the al-Qaida network of terror, or against the military apparatus of the Taliban. The military plan has been put together mindful of our determination to do all we humanly can to avoid civilian casualties.
Tony Blair, UK Prime Minister, 7 October 2001
On 20 September George W Bush, heavily criticised for his invisibility throughout the immediate aftermath of the attacks on the US, addressed Congress. His nation had been 'awakened to danger and called to defend freedom'. Shared grief had been 'turned to anger and anger to resolution'. 'Justice' would be delivered – whether 'we bring our enemies to justice or bring justice to our enemies'. In his sights were: al-Qaida – 'to terror what the Mafia is to crime'; Afghanistan's Taliban regime; and Osama bin Laden. Al-Qaida, with Osama bin Laden's direction, had recruited and trained 'thousands of ... terrorists in more than 60 countries'. To the Taliban Bush issued three non-negotiable demands: present the al-Qaida leadership to the US authorities; release all foreign nationals; provide access to all terrorist training camps. His message was unequivocal: 'hand over the terrorists' or 'share their fate'. The 'logic' was simple: in harbouring and supporting murderers, 'the Taliban regime is committing murder'. While not committing the US to the overthrow of the Taliban regime, this would be an inevitable consequence of its failure to meet US demands. Aiding and abetting 'terrorism' would provide legitimacy for military action.
Ominously, Bush expanded the dimensions of the US declaration of the 'war on terror': it 'begins with al-Qaida, but it does not end there. It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped the defeated.' All nations that 'provide aid or safe haven to terrorists' would be pursued relentlessly on the basis of an ultimatum that either 'you are with us or you are with the terrorists'. There could be no third way, no neutral territories. In the long-term defence of US interests, in protecting its citizens, regimes tolerating or encouraging 'terrorism' would be designated 'hostile'.
Flexing the military muscle of global policing, Bush emphasised that it was not 'just America's fight'. What was 'at stake' was not only 'America's freedom'. It would be a long-term 'fight' for the 'world', for 'civilisation' and for 'pluralism, tolerance and freedom'. With reference to the Nato Charter he proclaimed that an 'attack on one is an attack on all', that the 'civilised world' was quickly 'rallying to America's side'. No room here for the 'clash of civilisations' thesis – it was the civilised against the rest. In 'grief and anger' had been forged 'our mission and our moment'. Defending the 'advance of human freedom, the great achievement of our time' now depended on US resolve and intervention.
And so the 'war on terror' was declared. Regardless of international mandate, formal political debate or democratic political process and in contravention of international law and conventions, Bush prepared the ground for the inevitable. The 'war' was not against Islam but against ubiquitous terrorism. With over 60 nation-states already proscribed as hostile, the long haul announced and the 'defence of civilisation' as the high moral purpose, the US was going to war. If states were not party to the Bush administration's solution, they would be regarded part of its problem. As far as the US government was concerned the attacks provided it with the authority and legitimacy to define, name and eliminate 'terrorist' organisations, their members and their associates.
Sitting in Congress was the UK Prime Minister, Tony Blair. He endorsed the Bush speech without qualification and the president did not disappoint: the US, he stated, had 'no truer friend than Great Britain' with the two states now 'joined together in a great cause'. Eight days later in his key speech to the Labour Party's annual conference Blair declared September 11 to be 'a turning point in history'. Out of such 'tragedy', such 'evil', would emerge a force for 'lasting good'. The 'machinery of terrorism' would be destroyed 'wherever it is found'. 'Hope' would be given to all nations, with 'greater understanding between nations and between faiths' and 'above all, justice and prosperity for the poor and dispossessed ...' While longer-term objectives were aspirational, initial interventions would be directed against Osama bin Laden and the Taliban. Blair reiterated the Bush ultimatum: 'surrender the terrorists; or surrender your power. It's your choice.'
Blair stated that while the 'causes of terror' should be understood there could be no justification for September 11. It required a 'proportionate' and 'targeted' response. He juxtaposed the issue of civilian casualties with a reminder of 'what we are dealing with. Listen to the calls of those passengers on the planes. Think of the children on them, told they were going to die.' Civilian casualties to be avoided – yes; but only in the context of the civilian deaths in the September 11 attacks.
At home there was a need for urgent law reform 'not to deny basic liberties but to prevent their abuse and protect the most basic liberty of all: freedom from terror'. And, 'round the world', as he put it, there would also be change with governments 'coming together' and the 'power of community asserting itself'. 'Confidence is global' with state interdependence defining 'the new world we live in'. Mutual interests, 'woven together', represented 'the politics of globalisation ... driven by people'. Blair argued that the 'power of community' combined with 'justice' had to be mobilised to benefit all nations. The 'governing idea of modern social democracy is community' derived in 'the principles of social justice'. His mission statement was 'to deliver social justice in the modern world'.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Beyond September 11"
by .
Copyright © 2002 Phil Scraton.
Excerpted by permission of Pluto Press.
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