
War on Terror: A Deadly Franchise
By Naomi Klein
Thursday August 28, 2003
first published in The Guardian
The Marriott hotel in Jakarta was still burning when Susilo Bambang
Yudhoyono, Indonesia’s security minister, explained the implications
of the day’s attack: “Those who criticize about human
rights being breached must understand that all the bombing victims
are more important than any human rights issue.”
In a sentence, we got the best summary yet of the philosophy underlying
Bush’s so -called war on terror. Terrorism doesn’t just
blow up buildings; it blasts every other issue off the political
map. The specter of terrorism — real and exaggerated —
has become a shield of impunity, protecting governments around the
world from scrutiny for their human rights abuses.
Many have argued that the war on terror is the US government’s
thinly veiled excuse for constructing a classic empire, in the model
of Rome or Britain. Two years into the crusade, it’s clear
this is a mistake: The Bush gang doesn’t have the stick-to-it-ness
to successfully occupy one country, let alone a dozen. Bush and
the gang do, however, have the hustle of good marketers, and they
know how to contract out. What Bush has created in the WoT is less
a “doctrine” for world domination than an easy-to-assemble
toolkit for any mini-empire looking to get rid of the opposition
and expand its power.
The war on terror was never a war in the traditional sense. It
is, instead, a kind of brand, an idea that can be easily franchised
by any government in the market for an all -purpose opposition cleanser.
We already know that the WoT works on domestic groups that use terrorist
tactics such as Hamas or the Armed Revolutionary Forces of Colombia
(FARC). But that’s only its most basic application. WoT can
be used on any liberation or opposition movement. It can also be
applied liberally on unwanted immigrants, pesky human rights activists
and even on hard-to-get-out investigative journalists.
Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was the first to adopt Bush’s
franchise, parroting the White House’s pledges to “pull
up these wild plants by the root, smash their infrastructure”
as he sent bulldozers into the occupied territories to uproot olive
trees and tanks to raze civilian homes. It soon included human rights
observers who were bearing witness to the attacks, as well as aid
workers and journalists.
Another franchise soon opened in Spain with Prime Minister Jose
Maria Aznar extending his WoT from the Basque guerrilla group Eta
to the Basque separatist movement as a whole, the vast majority
of which is entirely peaceful. Aznar has resisted calls to negotiate
with the Basque autonomous government and banned the political party
Batasuna (even though, as the New York Times noted in June, “no
direct link has been established between Batasuna and terrorist
acts”). He has also shut down Basque human rights groups,
magazines and the only entirely Basque -language newspaper. Last
February, the Spanish police raided the Association of Basque Middle
Schools, accusing it of having terrorist ties.
This appears to be the true message of Bush’s war franchise:
Why negotiate with your political opponents when you can annihilate
them? In the era of WoT, concerns such as war crimes and human rights
just don’t register.
Among those who have taken careful note of the new rules is Georgia’s
President Eduard Shevardnadze. Last October, while extraditing five
Chechens to Russia (without due process) for its WoT, he stated
that “international human rights commitments might become
pale in comparison with the importance of the anti-terrorist campaign”.
Indonesia’s President Megawati Sukarnoputri got the same
memo. She came to power pledging to clean up Indonesia’s notoriously
corrupt and brutal military and bring peace to the fractious country.
Instead she has called off talks with the Free Aceh Movement, and
in May invaded the oil-rich province in the country’s largest
military offensive since the 1975 invasion of East Timor. Why did
the Indonesian government think it could get away with the invasion
after the international outrage that forced it out of East Timor?
Easy: post-Sept. 11, the government cast Aceh’s movement for
national liberation as “terrorist”. The Philippines
President Gloria Arroyo appears to feel similarly blessed. Quick
to cast her battle against Islamic separatists in the southern Moro
region as part of the WoT, Arroyo — like Sharon, Aznar and
Megawati — abandoned peace negotiations and waged brutal civil
war instead, displacing 90,000 people last year.
But she didn’t stop there. Last August, speaking to soldiers
at a military academy, Arroyo extended the war beyond terrorists
and armed separatists to include “those who terrorize factories
that provide jobs” — clear code for trade unions. Labor
groups in Philippine free trade zones report that union organizers
are facing increased threats, and strikes are being broken up with
extreme police violence.
In Colombia, the government’s war against leftist guerrillas
has long been used as cover to murder anyone with leftist ties,
whether union activists or indigenous farmers. But things have got
worse since President Alvaro Uribe took office in August 2002 on
a WoT platform. Only after “terrorist networks are dismantled
will we see full compliance with human rights,” Uribe said
in March.
Sometimes WoT is not an excuse to wage war, but to keep one going.
Mexican President Vincente Fox came to power in 2000 pledging to
settle the Zapatista conflict “in 15 minutes” and to
tackle rampant human rights abuses committed by the military and
police. Now, post-Sept. 11, Fox has abandoned both projects. The
government has made no moves to reinitiate the Zapatista peace process
and last week Fox closed down the office of the under-secretary
for human rights.
This is the era ushered in by Sept. 11: War and repression unleashed,
not by a single empire, but by a global franchise. In Indonesia,
Israel, Spain, Colombia, the Philippines and China, governments
have latched on to Bush’s deadly WoT and are using it to erase
their opponents and tighten their grip on power.
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