|
From the issue dated September 28, 2001
|
|
What Kind of Evil?
By THOMAS S. HIBBS
In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center and
the Pentagon, The Chronicle asked scholars in a variety of disciplines to reflect on those events. Their comments were submitted in writing or transcribed from interviews.
|
The news media and some political leaders, groping for language to describe the terrorist acts and their perpetrators, have often lapsed into overused terms and generic phrases: "madness," "national tragedy," or "senseless acts of aggression."
A San Francisco newspaper best captured what most Americans feel with its frank headline: "Bastards." President Bush has been blunt in his use of the term "evil." But what sort of evil?
Certainly not the kind of evil on which Hollywood lavishes so much attention and advertising money; by comparison, Hannibal Lecter looks like something from a fantasy camp for deranged teenagers. We have had some anticipation of the evil of the terrorist attacks in the figure of Timothy McVeigh and the bombing in Oklahoma City. But the images of the towers' being struck by planes, exploding, and then crumbling seem apocalyptic, exceeding in scope even McVeigh's destruction -- if comparison is possible. A few Americans on the right and left have suggested that we brought the horror on ourselves -- by which they mean, not just that we were unprepared, but that the terrorism is retribution for our own evil.
Some members of the religious right see the attacks as the result of our nation's decaying personal morality. Left-leaning members of the press see them as a response to U.S. imperialism and unjust economic policies. The terrorists would readily agree with both claims. The theory from the left invokes an essential feature of the standard liberal explanation of evil: economic deprivation. There are indeed crucial questions here about how we conduct ourselves in world affairs; how we lead our lives; and what is, and should be, most important to us. Yet however valid such criticisms might be of America's international policies, they fail to explain fully the kind and sources of the evil that we encountered on September 11.
Indeed, our very lack of preparation for the attacks has to do with our Western, liberal assumption that, deep down, everyone wants to negotiate. From the standard liberal perspective, suicide bombers must be mad. But they are cool, calculating machines, imbued with a passion for vengeance. They are especially moved by a desire to rid the world of our impure blood.
Osama bin Laden's initial obsession with the United States dates to the Persian Gulf war and our military presence in Saudi Arabia, the land of Muslim shrines in Mecca and Medina. His bellicose aspiration for purification is both a perversion of the Islamic understanding of jihad -- a point that cannot be made too often -- and a transfixing aesthetic ideal.
The delay in military response, which frustrates many Americans, and the barrage of TV coverage, which typically deadens rather than enlivens our sense of important events, have in this case been beneficial. Even as we try to come to terms with the magnitude and peculiar sources of the evil that we now confront, we have been given a terrific opportunity to recover a sense of what matters most to us, of what kinds of action and ways of life we wish to celebrate in common. Because of television, we have not only a heart-wrenching appreciation of the personal loss and misery, but also certitude about the reality of heroism, of courage and nobility in the face of terrifying death. That is testimony to how evil sometimes undermines itself: by generating astonishing acts of virtue.
Thomas S. Hibbs is an associate professor of philosophy at Boston College.
http://chronicle.com
Section: The Chronicle Review
Page: B15
|
Copyright © 2001 by The Chronicle of Higher Education
|

|

Reflections on the Fractured Landscape
|

|

|

|

|

|

|

|
|
|

|
|