Books like Terrorism

This is an accessible book for those who want to learn about some of the arguments in favor of a just war tradition and pacifist arguments against any use of political violence. Coady does justice to both traditions. He defends the sometimes neglected or misunderstood “doctrine of double effect” to offer a compelling argument against the deliberate use of terrorist violence by either nonstate or state actors against innocent non-combatants. While not popular nowadays, Coady makes a compelling case that unless we take the doctrine of double effect seriously, noncombatant immunity would be significantly reduced. Our ordinary intuition shows that if we remove the idea of intentionality from evaluating people’s behavior, especially in war, we are virtually giving a carte blanch for all parties involved to deliberately target the innocent. 

Louise Richardson’s book is an insightful investigation for people who want to understand the motivation of terrorists and their supporters, especially those who engage in suicide terrorism. She makes a persuasive argument that suicide terrorists are motivated by political objectives understood in the broad sense of this term. They have long and short-term political objectives among which are revenge, renown, and reaction. She refers to these motives as the three Rs. She contends that those who engage in suicide operations are disaffected individuals supported by a community that espouses a legitimizing ideology, be it political, religious, or both. As result, their deep-seated grievances can turn into deep-seated resentment against powerful nations which they blame for intervening in their own country. For example, they oftentimes blame the US government for maintaining a presence in Islamic countries, including supporting despotic and nepotic regimes, such as the present Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. 

O’Donovan offers us a short but elegantly written book on just war from antiquity to the present. He convincingly argues in favor of the foundational role that religious and theological ideas going back to St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas play in the development of a Christian just war approach. He underscores that what we have come to understand as “just war theory” is a misnomer. There is no such thing as just war theory but rather a proposal of practical reason to develop good judgments in the light of armed conflict or war. The backbone of these good judgments is that the deliberate killing of innocent noncombatants is never morally justified. This prohibition remains constant whether we are dealing with counterinsurgency, the development and use of weapons of mass destruction, or terrorism. 

Fotion has written a short and accessible book for a general audience defending the relevance of just war theory to address issues of war. He distinguished between two different conceptions of just war: one that applies to interstate armed conflicts and one that applies between states and non-state actors. While the distinction between interstate armed conflicts and those between state and non-state actors might be useful at times, the principles of jus ad bellum (the right to wage war) based on the right of self-defense and jus in bello (the right way to wage war) based on respecting the immunity of innocent civilians remains constant in both types of armed conflict. Yet since he explores the nuances of both approaches, his book is a welcome development illustrating the relevance of the just war tradition nowadays.

Grigory Baklanov (born Grigory Friedman) belonged to the generation of soldiers that faced the full brunt of the German attack on the Soviet Union and of whom only 3% survived. Forever Nineteen (trans. Antonina Bouis) is a tribute to the men who remained forever young; as the author elucidates in the introduction to the novel’s American edition, “I wanted them to come alive when I wrote this book, I wanted people living now to care about them as friends, as family, as brothers.” Baklanov had attained international renown with his 1959 novel The Foothold [An Inch of Land], which appeared in 36 countries. His portrayal of the war is more personal than Grossman’s and has a different angle: rather than depicting famous battles, he is concerned with ordinary soldiers’ lives, which can be cut short at any moment. (Disclosure: Grigory Baklanov is my father.)

Andreas Huyssen is the author of many distinguished books, but this one is especially important because it expanded the study of public memory to South America, which has had its own share of traumatic pasts to memorialize. Huyssen argues that World War II and the Holocaust have provided “templates” for memorialization that have been adapted by the Memory Park in Buenos Aires, among other examples. 

Generally speaking, I hate anything that hints at theory. But this slim volume, which investigates the relationship between states of war and how we understand time, is grounded solidly in reality and does not require mental gymnastics to understand.

Using the examples of World War II, the Cold War, and the Global War on Terror, Dudziak made me rethink how we define when it’s “wartime” vs. when it’s “peacetime” and why that matters. Her argument is about how war has not been a time out of time or aberration, so treating war as a period when different rules apply has real consequences.

The book pushed me to rethink how and when I silo ideas, time, and events and how dangerous silo’ing can be.

Magee’s splendid introductory book is my go-to recommendation for those who wish to enter the world of philosophical ideas. Yes, it’s old-school in the sense that it can be annoyingly androcentric and Eurocentric. A supplement like Rebecca Buxton and Lisa Whiting’s remarkable Philosopher Queens or Julian Baggini’s volume below should be read in tandem. Having said that, however, no one else pulls together the history of western philosophy with terse, informative, and fascinating accounts of important figures and schools as well as Magee. Plus, Magee’s text luxuriates amidst the lush, generous, and illuminating visuals that make Dorling Kindersley volumes so voluptuous. 

Mircea Eliade is one of the foremost historians of religion, The Sacred and the Profane is probably his most readable book. It clearly describes what traditional (oral) religions are like and how they differ from global (book) religions. Traditional religions provide critical background for understanding some contemporary ritual practices, but most importantly for me, traditional religions provide a context for understanding the emergence of secret societies. This will be a good read for anyone interested in traditional religions, whether native American, Australian, African, or pre-Christian Europe. I highly recommend it.

In past and present narratives of the Marquesas, along with other Pacific paradises, writers tend toward sensational or romantic exaggeration. T. Walter Herbert sets the record straight, showing what Melville likely encountered during his sojourn to Nukuhiva. In Herbert’s book, Melville is one of three examples of visitors to the islands, along with ship’s captain David Porter, whose narrative describes his laying violent waste to villages in the interior, and missionary William Alexander. Herbert shows what these visitors misunderstood about people characterized as “savages” and “barbarians”—readings that continue to influence cultural attitudes today. No one writes with quite the controlled fury and keen insight of this author!