gina carroll howard

How do soldiers survive war? Not how do they stay alive. Rather, how do they do what they must to stay alive, then psychologically adapt when they return home. Sanctioned killing and the constant threats posed by a shadowy enemy change you.

Many former servicemen and women are eventually able to put their experiences in mental boxes, wrap them tightly in reason and shove them into the deep recesses of their minds as far away from emotion as they can go.  Others can’t tamp down that emotion, withdrawing into themselves, turning to drugs or resorting to violence. In World War II, it was called shell shock. Today, it’s called post traumatic stress disorder. It’s not uncommon.

I don’t know how I’d deal with combat and the constant state of alert – or how well I’d transition back to civilian life. Quite honestly, I don’t ever want to find out. I don’t think any of us knows how combat and re-assimilation would affect us unless we’re faced with it. Would we handle it like our fathers or grandfathers and focus on the lighter moments, romanticizing the harrowing ones? Or would we respond like Timothy McVeigh, becoming paranoid and so angry that we’d lash out, becoming an American terrorist.

The psychologically damaged are the uncounted casualties of war.

When a crime occurs, particularly one that involves loss of life, it seems to strike a little closer to home when it takes place in suburbia. Not that the deaths are any less tragic in a big city, but somewhere in the backs of our minds, when someone is killed in a major metropolis, a little voice says, “that couldn’t happen here.”

But, of course, it can.

In smaller communities, people tend to know their neighbors. They’re the people you talk with as you get your mower out or the folks down the block whose kids babysit yours. A “wild child” in town might get picked up for shoplifting or drugs or DUI. He isn’t arrested for murder, and he certainly isn’t a terrorist.

But that’s the thing about American terrorists. They’re not predictable, particularly when they act alone. My terrorist character will come from America’s heartland. He’s just the boy – or maybe the girl – next door.

I’ve just about wrapped up my terrorism research. I’ve learned about some of the commonalities of terrorism across time and cultures, as well as about domestic terrorism, especially trends over the last 50 years. I wasn’t surprised to discover that both left- and right-wing extremists usually had ideological motives. However, contemporary terrorism seems increasingly more personal. Although the individuals might be part of larger organizations with political or
social goals, U.S. terrorists, in particular, tend to act on their own either to seek revenge, get attention or just to gain financially.

In The Roots of Terrorism: Domestic Terrorism, Jack Levin argues that terrorism in the U.S. is symptomatic of the lack of respect and trust for traditional institutions. He points to the esteem (or lack thereof) that people hold the branches of the federal government, media and big business, to name a few. He also believes that the sense of community is eroding, due in part by our mobile society. He certainly doesn’t assert these are the causes, just that these factors help make people’s decisions to engage in terrorist acts easier.

Now that I have the general profile for my terrorist protagonist, he needs a cause. So, this week, I’ll wrap up my general research and begin delving into his – or her – motive.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the role that the media play in providing terrorists with a platform. Terrorists also use the media – both traditional and social – to burnish their “brand” and connect with one another. If the media doesn’t go to the terrorists, the terrorists go to the media, sending homemade videos to mainstream broadcast outlets. Osama bin Laden, for example, put out videos that showed him as he wanted to be portrayed, living austerely as a pure Islamist. It’s not much different from the way American politicians arrange photo ops on the campaign trail or air commercials that show them building Habitat Houses or ladling bowls in soup kitchens.

In addition to video, terrorists use other forms of technology to further their goals. On the Internet, they can find handy tips on tools of the trade, such as bomb-building. Many look to chatrooms for validation and some even have struck up online romances. The goal, of course, is not to engage in acts of violence for their own sake, or to meet one’s soul mate, but to create social or political change. Terrorism, like coverage on the 6 o’clock news, is just a tactic to achieve their ultimate goals. The question is how a free society balances free speech and the open dissemination of knowledge with the possibility that media forums or online information could be used for illegal or destructive purposes. It’s an issue that one of my novel’s protagonists might find ironic.

We are socialized to respect human life. Regardless of one’s faith (or lack thereof), people around the world are taught it is wrong to kill. It’s codified in our laws. In fact, when a person is in a kill-or-be-killed situation or on a jury voting for the death penalty, choosing to take a life –  even of a person who has committed a horrific crime or when one’s life is in danger – often leaves psychological scars. So how can terrorists do it? They, too, were taught right from wrong. How can they kill people they do not know, who harmed neither them nor anyone else? How can they kill innocents?

By objectifying them. Terrorists do not think of their victims as mothers and fathers, as beloved children, as people going about their daily lives. To overcome their deep aversion to killing, they can’t think of their victims as human beings. Instead, they become “the man,” “the bureaucracy” or a cultural, religious or ethnic slur. The terrorists depersonalize their victims. Only then can they commit violent acts for their political or social causes.

My protagonist is a good man pushed to his limit. He feels he has exhausted his options, and the only way he can draw attention to what he believes is an injustice is to commit a violent act. It’s a decision he struggles with, and only by objectifying his victims can he bring himself to act.