Torture, Seeing it as a Defense by K. Rodriguez

Author Paul Kahn expresses his opinion about torture by saying, “I am most certainly against torture just as I am against terror,” (13). Beginning with this statement I believe that torture is not something I personally disagree with. Of course if terror did not exist, I am sure that I would undoubtedly have agreed with Kahn’s statement(s).  I understand that on many occasions he articulates that torture and terror go hand in hand. Both terms are significantly linked together in the sense that they both create fear, violence and tend to have a specific goal. “…terror and torture speak in the same voice: they are matched forms of behavior at the level of symbolic meanings,” (13).  As harsh as my disagreement may sound compare to him, I believe that any extreme measure should be used to protect nations. This does not mean I agree with the idea that people should be suicide bombers to make a point, or that people should use religion to justify that any action taken is correct. I just believe that there needs to be a defense that is equivalent to the force that someone is against. In this case being governments against governments or religion against religion or governments against religions, or vise versus. In whichever way, I think that torture should not be looked down upon if ever used in a matter necessary- and of course when that kind of power is not exploited. Sadly, that is not always the case.

For example, women and even men at times are tortured. Not because someone is trying to get information out of them. Torture does not always mean that someone is getting beat up or that it is used for the right reasons. Just like the women from Juarez and from all over the world. “Violence against women occurs in many forms, from rape…battering to psychological and verbal attacks including threats and intimidation,” (K. Staudt, 29).It has even been discussed in class that being abused of does not have to be physical and it is just as painful. And maybe this is why it should be a reason for me to disagree with torture but at the end of the day no matter what kind of violence it is, may it be justified violence, fake violence (ex: action movies/shows…), violence against innocents, violence against those who deserve it; torture does not stop from being torture and neither does terror.  And because terror does exist and it is used to its fullest, torture should be too.

I thought it was very interesting that Kathleen Staudt, before beginning her essay, she quotes Hanna Arendt. “[E]very decrease in power is an open invitation to violence,” (29). And I couldn’t agree more with that statement, to a certain extent. In my opinion, it is just a way of saying that if you have power and use it appropriately there is a better chance of not being attacked by an opponent, if you are, at least it should be known to others that there are severe consequences that follow.  The government and military’s, though they abide by the prohibition on torture mentioned in Kahn’s introduction, they still have the power to use violence. Maybe it is thought as immoral but Kahn says, “The torture that survives occurs in places closed to public regard… torture has the opaque presence of the “deniable.” It must be known but not seen…” (3). So, if its already used, why not use it in a manner that is effective and not be abused by those who potentially have the authority to use it?

Perspective on London, 2005 by J.Y.

It is one thing to watch horrifying events like terrorist attacks unfold before your very eyes on a television screen in the comfort of your own living room thousands of miles away. It is a whole other thing to be smack-dab in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world that, in a matter of seconds, transforms into absolute pandemonium. Blood everywhere, sirens blaring, women and children screaming, men crying, smoke ascending to the sky like some ominous marking of destruction. That was London in 2005. I was 12 years old, and right in front of King’s Cross station (one of the most popular train stations in the city) when the bombs went off.

 

It turns out that four terrorists who identified themselves with the Islam religion were responsible for the attacks. Three bombs were detonated within ten minutes of King’s Cross Station and another one exploded on a double-decker bus. Fifty-two civilians were killed along with the suicide bombers, and approximately 700 others were wounded. Later that September, al-Qaeda claimed responsibility for the attacks in a video tape.

 

I am not religious by any means, nor do I possess immense knowledge about the Islamic faith (and I when I question the motives of the bombers, that does not also imply that I feel that way about those who practice the Islamic faith). The idea that a person could make themselves a martyr for their religion by murdering other people is something I cannot wrap my head around. Kahn states that martyrdom is “a test of faith, not a matter of consent,” implying that the bombers might have felt an obligation to prove their worth to their religious figure-head or the like (33). However, in the Christian faith (who advocates most strongly for virtues like forgiveness), when Jesus gives himself up to God, it is seen as the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good because it establishes principles of compassion and mercy, it is an anecdote recognized all around the world. Jesus was being tortured and eventually gave himself up to the Lord, succumbing to His almighty authority while later establishing the doctrine of Christianity. While the death of Jesus Christ can be seen as horrific from any outsider, it carries significant religious implications. Relating back to the terrorist attack, it was not a single “martyr” that wanted to send a message, but four. Instead of sacrificing ONLY themselves to advocate their religious faith or devoutness, they take the lives of 52 INNOCENT people with them.  So why would somebody feel so obliged to act in this way to convey their religious faith? Kahn believes that “sacrifice is compelled by the presence of the sacred…it does not emerge form within, as if it is the product of a personal decision, but neither can we say that it is forced upon us from without…at stake is not a romantic idea of an inner-self but the objective truth of the world and of the self in that world” (29). Were the bombers feeling obligated to provoke these attacks because they felt pressured? What greater good were they sacrificing themselves to? Was it a personal choice? Questions like these still puzzle me to this day. After all, watching the scene unfold before your young eyes leaves you able to mutter only one single word, “why?”

 

Removing the religious context from the attacks, and it is seen as simply a severe and brutal act of violence, murder. On top of that, the terrorists emotionally scarred those who were not victims but happened to be in the vicinity of the attacks. Myself included.

 

However, a ray of hope.

 

Kindness.

 

People of all different ethnicities, ages, countries, religions, you name it, worked together to ensure that everyone was safe. I watched an African-American man help a Chinese woman away from the damage, I watched a Middle-Eastern man throw his jacket over a white woman’s face to cover her eyes from the dust as he ushered her away. I watched compassion before my very eyes. Retrospectively, it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Civilians associated with the Islamic religion were not crying victory up and down the streets. Wouldn’t that mean that these attacks were seen as tragic despite any religious affiliation? I strongly believe so. There is an idea of religion and then above that comes natural law; implying that there are basic human rights that everyone is entitled to. When these rights are violated, it strikes a chord with the hearts of everyone involved, not just appealing to a particular religion. Though the attacks on London may have been seen as a religious sacrifice by the bombers, watching compassion emerge literally from the ashes from people of all different backgrounds reminded me that, despite religious affiliation, people generally have a strong sense of human decency. While I still am haunted by the attacks (I cannot ride an underground train), the aftermath of the attacks resonates with me in one of the mot powerful ways.  Torture and sacrifice can empower one particular person or group of people, but when innocent civilians are victimized, the collective organization of compassion that stems from all sorts of people over-rides that. All of this happened in less than two minutes, but it’s something that still resonates with me to this day. This “spectacle of sacrifice” did initiate fear into those involved or watching, including myself, but failed immensely to ignite religious furor in it followers, but instead sparked the human compassion that lies in all of us (25).