Various projects and musings by Mason Smith
The final paper for my Hum/PI 8 class, Right and Wrong. The basic question was "Can terrorism ever be justified?".
In philosophical debates regarding terrorism, one usually considers two major questions: "What is terrorism?" and "Is terrorism every justified?". In this paper, we will give enough respect to the former question to address the latter. We will approach a few major ideas regarding the justifications of terrorism before examining a case which demonstrates these issues.
We first set out to find an acceptable definition of terrorism for our purposes, so that we know what it is we are justifying. To do this, we will use C.A.J. Coady's classification of potential terrorism characteristics to find a suitable subset. Coady, through analyzing a survey of philosophical papers dealing with terrorism, found that the definitions employed in these papers differ by their uses of different subsets of the following 6 characteristics:
Ideally, our definition should be as "open" as possible, in the sense that there are as few disqualifications as possible. For instance, some philosophers assume that the attacking party must not be a state in order for the attack to be one of terrorism. This is rather unacceptable, as this immediately discounts many hotly debated actions committed by nations in recent years. The atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, for instance, are often considered terrorist attacks. We want to keep a priori exclusions such as this to a minimum.
On the other hand, we must be careful that our definition discounts actions that should merely be considered as crimes against the state (or perhaps war crimes, in the case of nation against nation terrorism). For instance, few would suggest that a premeditated murder of one's ex-spouse were an attack of terrorism, even though it might share some of the listed characteristics, namely (e) and (f). According to Coady's study, the vast majority of the studied philosophical papers consider having a political agenda to be the bare minimum for setting apart terrorism from "mundane criminal violence" (Coady, 4). We shall not argue differently.
Based on these desired traits, it seems that (a), (c), and (e) should all be essentially required for any act to be considered terrorist. However, these characteristics alone should define terrorism. One objection to the ex-spouse case above is that there is only one victim, whereas terrorist acts typically involve a large or highly visible group of people. We therefore accept, as a tentative definition for terrorism, a violent act in which a group targets innocents or non-combatants on a sufficiently large scale in order to instill fear in a population for the ultimate purpose of coercing political change. This definition, however, comes with a few issues that should be addressed. First, even though the other characteristics are not required for an act to be terrorism, they still strengthen the case for such a classification.
Secondly, this definition obviously is not acceptable to everyone. Some philosophers, such as Coady, would argue that the definition is too strict because it requires the instilling of fear. He suggests that "we would surely call the bombing slaughter of a busload of schoolchildren 'terrorist' even if the perpetrators intended to spread anger rather than fear", so fear should not be a determining factor(Coady 6). However, I would suggest that the distinction between fear and anger is, in the light of public reaction, not as crisp as Coady suggests. At the very least, I argue that any reference to fear accounts for similar emotions, such as anger or disgust. Our definition, then, still classifies the bus case as terrorism. In any case, the definition is acceptable for fostering philosophical discussion on the topic.
Thirdly, the use of "sufficiently large scale" is admittedly vague, so it should be clarified. "Large scale" does not necessarily reference the physical size of the attack (e.g. casualty counts, property damage costs, etc). Rather, it should be interpreted in terms of importance. For example, the assassination of a random person on the street could hardly be considered terrorism, but the assassination of the President could be a terrorist act in certain cases. This is not to suggest that the President's life is more valuable than the average American's life; it only acknowledges that an attack on the President's life is a much stronger catalyst for political change. In this sense, "large scale" also indirectly reflects physical size, since the size of an atrocity usually correlates with public and political reaction.
Equipped with a reasonable definition, we are now ready to tackle the major question at hand. We will begin similarly to how we began with defining terrorism. That is, we will discuss some potential characteristics for justification before deciding on an appropriate set, if any set at all. Nick Fotion approaches justification arguments in "The Burdens of Terrorism". Among other things, Fotion argues that, since terrorist attacks are particularly atrocious, most likely involving civilian casualties, terrorists must be given the burden of proof of innocence rather than the benefit of the doubt.
Fotion rejects a brute consequentialist argument. That is, Fotion does not believe that fighting for a just cause, however great, is not adequate justification for a terrorist act. As he states, "… even if the higher good is achieved… that alone does not justify their tactics. To do that they must show that no other tactical option is available which has a reasonable chance of bringing about the higher good". This view is actually shared among other philosophers. Robert Young, for instance, argues that "the moral justification for any particular instance of terrorism…will turn on whether justice can be achieved with fewer, and better targeted, killings and injuries, or less destruction, than by any of the other available alternatives."
To some consequentialists and other skeptics, this line of reasoning might seem suspect. Naively, it seems as though terrorists are required to show an undue amount of justification for their acts, compared to other moral dilemmas. However, it is important to realize that many moral dilemmas are framed in the idea of choices, particular utilitarian-centric dilemmas.
One common example is the scenario in which an unwitting man parks his car on train tracks and decides to go for a walk. The car is supposedly his nest egg; it is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, even though it is not insured, and he has little other savings. Soon, he sees a train headed straight for the car. He happens to be next to the rail switcher, so he can pull the lever and deflect the train. Unfortunately, shortly down the alternate track is a poor child, whom we are told either has a foot stuck in the tracks or is deaf or something of the like. The poor man cannot signal to the child, so the child will most likely be killed. Fortunately, his car is not too far down the track, compared to the train. If he acts quickly, he could run to the car and try to start it and move it out of the way before the train comes, even if he isn't in as good of shape as he used to be. Given that this last option has little chance of success and is a risky to himself and his car, which of the three options should the man take?
Given that he is close enough to possibly run to his car, most would argue that pulling the lever is not a reasonable option. Despite the importance of the car to this man, most philosophers would argue that someone else's life, particularly his innocent life, is not worth sacrificing for one's car. However, if we some exclude the third option (perhaps the man had walked too far to run back in time), the option to pull the lever seems to be more viable. Most would be hesitant to pull the lever, from a third-person perspective, but the man could easily argue that, since the car is so important to his financial well-being, destroying it would surely bankrupt him, creating for him a life that is not worth living. In any case, this illustrates that the introduction or removal of options can strongly affect the moral validity of a given decision. We can then safely accept the idea that the justification of terrorism depends, at least partially, on the unavailability of other effective options.
Fotion further deduces that the justification of an act of terrorism also depends on whether the act was successful in achieving the desired political goals. He argues that, although it may be possible to justify a much greater good with a few well-placed civilian casualties, it is much harder to argue for a failed attempt at political change given the huge sacrifices inolved. However, this idea is more debated. Young, for instance, insists that one must "separate the effectiveness of an act of terrorism from its moral justifiability" (Young 59).
Fotion's notion is somewhat dubious in that it is painfully non-general. For instance, one would hardly expect that an otherwise unjustifiable act of terrorism could be justified because it had an unexpectedly favorable outcome. The September 11 attacks are a good example of this phenomenon. The plane hijackings directly influenced, or possibly created, America's War on Terror. Through this war, America has already overthrown two oppressive regimes in both Afghanistan and Iraq. Few would hardly suggest that the terrorist bombings were justified as a result. Similarly, one would not blame a good Samaritan for a superficially good deed that unforeseeably went wrong. Therefore, it is not particularly useful to use the end result of a terrorist act as a means of justification or lack thereof.
To facilitate our discussion, we can introduce a real life example of a possible act of terrorism. This will serve as a suitable test bed for our theories thus far. One less considered example is the Stono Rebellion. On September 9, 1739, twenty slaves gathered near the Stono River in an attempt to escape to St. Augustine. The slaves raided a general store for guns and ammunition, killing the store owners in the process. They then marched toward St. Augustine, burning homes and brutally killing the inhabitants. The march also gained followers as the day pressed on, reaching a group of sixty by the time a group of slave owners caught up to the rebellion. When the two groups confronted each other, a bloody battle ensued leaving twenty whites and forty slaves dead, along with the hopes of freedom.
From our established definition, this event surely qualifies as a terrorist act. The slaves specifically killed many non-combatants throughout the march. Furthermore, whether the rebellion was for the personal freedom of the slaves or the collective freedom of all slaves in South Carolina or even all the colonies, their goal was obviously a form of radical political change. Finally, the slaves most certainly instilled fear by confirming the greatest concerns of a state whose population was already a slave majority (Wax 136). Also, three months following the rebellion, a militia was called to patrol the area and watch the black population (Wax 138). This further suggests that the whites were afraid of more rebellions, arguably another goal of the Stono Rebellion.
As an established act of terrorism, we can also argue that the Stono Rebellion was justified. Surely the overall cause was just. One would be hard-pressed to find any philosopher, or any individual for that matter, who would consider large scale forced labor and complete lack of basic or political freedoms an unworthy cause to fight for. To be sure, the slaves' cause satisfies the Universalizability Principle. This principle states that "If, in justifying an action, we carry our reasons back to such universal principles, out justification has some claim to be called 'ethcial'" (Fotion 50). The forced labor and gross mistreatment of a large population of individuals who have committed no crimes is universally wrong by this principle.
Furthermore, the slaves had few, if any, other viable alternatives. Walzer usually suggests the vast majority of terrorist acts are unjustified because there are always appeals to the state that can be made before attempting violence (Young 58). However, even if that were true, this case warrants exception. The slaves in question not only did not have a right to vote; it was illegal for these slaves to be taught to read and write. This prevented slaves from having any means to create a normal political movement. Later Supreme Court decisions and congressional acts would show that a slave was thought of as property rather that human or, at best, three-fifths of a person for the purposes of representation in Congress. Furthermore, much of the colonies' prosperity hinged on the use of slave labor. No colony would seriously consider the abolition of slavery at the time, especially if argued by the slaves themselves.
Some might argue that the slaves could just run away to the North, in an attempt to escape. This was implausible for multiple reasons. First, if their goal was the emancipation of all slaves, or at least a large number of them, merely running away would do very little for the cause. Secondly, patrol acts were already in effect which forced whites to serve on a militia that watched for runaways (Wax 139). This would make running away even less likely to succeed in itself.
Hence, we can see that, with certain stipulations, certain acts of terrorism can be justified. The Stono Rebellion is an exemplary illustration of this justification. The political group was left with no other recourse for moving toward a just cause, thereby justifying their extreme measures so long as we reasonably ignore the obvious failure of their attempts.