A few thoughts on terrorism

Since the day that a human first took a stick and whipped another human there have been battles between humans. Gradually, the stick became the rock, the rock the arrow, and the arrow the nuclear missile.

As these battles were fought, the “will to power” as Nietzsche would call it, began to show itself as “policy”. Humankind, acting under the superior and dominant will of a “leader” organized itself into groups. Realizing that there is power in numbers, and fearful of their own demise, groups began to form and to stake-out their territory. Following this came the realization that the rights of one group were threatened by the presence of another group, policy became “politics” and modern warfare was invented.

This “will to power” was only the embodiment (in act) of the preservation of what an individual or collectivity envisioned as its happiness and enjoyment of earth’s full bounty. Acting in a way that preserves or promotes one’s happiness became a natural right. Given that there are differences in what one individual deems his happiness there was a natural discovery: The preservation of one’s happiness was often at the cost of another’s happiness.

What other than this “will to power” could explain the actions of children in a sandbox, fighting over the same toy? It is such a natural inclination that it often goes unnoticed. Yet it is this same “will to power” that is at the root of today’s bloody struggles. The stick has become the explosive device, yet it’s used for the same basic purpose.

This “will to power” evolved over time as well. Man’s natural enjoyment differs from one individual to another, at least in the means whereby one attains and preserves it. Certain individuals naturally desire to be a part of a larger group, and are satisfied in the knowledge that the group offers them a further protection of what they deem their “happiness.” Others desire to lead that group, perhaps as an extension of a greater “will to power?” Those that are lead are content with their lot; as sheep are content in the presence of a kind shepherd. Others, whose will to power may be more evident, take it upon themselves to lead, not shepherd, but lead.

The presence of a strong shepherd, one unafraid to sacrifice a lamb, might even be a comfort to those who are led! The individual lamb seeks the protection of his own happiness by placing his faith in the shepherd. In whom does the shepherd place his faith? If the answer is that he places his faith in himself, then there is room to doubt the motive of the shepherd. The shepherd must demonstrate that his faith lies in the collectivity of the sheep. Simultaneously, when that collectivity has no response or call to action when faced with an obstruction to their “will to power” by the “will to power” of another collectivity the shepherd must convince the sheep that he is in communication with a higher “will to power.”

This communication led naturally to a communion of laws. There eventually became, by common experience, the acknowledgement that without agreement on the extent or timing of “permissible” defenses of the protection of the “will to power” there would be chaos. Even in war, rules were made to guide the outcome, and mutually prevent the destruction of everyone’s happiness. War, the destruction of man by man, has always been permitted as an inevitability of our condition. However, rules were made and agreed-upon to prevent total destruction.

At the end of World-War Two, a decision was taken and justified in terms of the preservation of these rules. Two atomic devices were dropped on an unsuspecting Hiroshima and Nagasaki. 199 000 sheep lay dead in demonstration of one nations “will to power” over another’s. The “will to power” of one nation’s leader provided comfort to his flock. Countless other sheep were comforted in the awe that they felt by their leader’s ability not to be attacked by the bombing-nation and their leader.

More than 60% of the direct victims of these bombings died as a result of burns. What effect does this have on the comfort felt by the sheep in their awe of their strong shepherd? And what is the consequence of the cruelty that may be perceived by other flocks and their shepherds? It is the western culture that produced Bob Dylan who said in 1968:

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth.
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view.
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl.
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

Is the world now divided under two riders? Is the hour getting late? Will the time come when we will be arguing, like we did after the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that the ends justified the means? Do we expect the lamb to lie down?