What's terrifying about terrorism?

By Jason Lim

This past Monday, three people, including an 8-year-old boy, were killed by a terrorist’s bomb, and more than 170 people were injured.

The boy was waiting for his dad to finish the Boston Marathon when he was killed. Others were similarly waiting for their friends and loved ones to finish the race and undoubtedly looking forward to a post-race celebration that would mark such a wonderful feat.

The dead and injured were not doing anything that would expose them to lethal danger. They were not Marines in combat zones in Afghanistan or Iraq. They were not Navy SEALs hunting down Osama Bin Laden. There were not even thrill seekers jumping out of an airplane for fun. And yet, they were killed. By a bomb. At the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

And that’s what’s initially so terrifying about terrorism. That it’s so random, non-discriminatory, and senseless. And it’s this senselessness that frightens us because we can’t plan for it. And if we can’t plan for it, then we can’t prepare for it. And if we can’t prepare for it, we are powerless to do anything about it. In a word, we are helpless. And horrifyingly vulnerable.

This is what’s different between Boston and North Korea. The latter’s threats, however over-the-top belligerent and bombastic, actually make sense within the context that they were being uttered.

We can point to history, culture, leadership, events, and other factors to craft some type of a causal narrative that we can grab onto to make sense of what’s happening. It doesn’t mean that we like what’s happening; but, at least, we can intellectualize and label it, making it easier to manage our understanding and perception of the threat.

So, when TIME magazine and other international press are agog over the South Korean’s supposed tranquility in the face of North Korean threats, they are partially missing the point.

It’s not that South Koreans are inured to the threat to turn Seoul into a sea of fire, although that is a part of it. It’s more that South Koreans are able to make sense of the situation and understand the overall causal context from which they emanate. In other words, North Korean threats, in some twisted way, make sense, which makes it easier to deal with them.

We can’t do that with terrorism.

How do we make sense of a bomb implanted inside a trash can at the finish line of the Boston Marathon that leaves a vibrant 8-year-old boy dead? How do we make sense of passenger airplanes that fly into the World Trade Center one gorgeous September morning and kill over 3,000 people? How do we make sense of an airplane seat that blows up underneath you and ejects you into the sky at 30,000 feet? How do we make sense of something so ordinarily mundane that suddenly turns into something so extraordinarily horrifying?

We can’t. Yet we keep trying because we have to have it make sense in order to deal with it. We are hardwired this way. We have to explain the why and who behind everything we see. Only then can we consider the case closed and file it away, allowing healing to begin.

If something doesn’t make sense, then we actually make up reasons. If there is no one who’s obviously responsible, we start assigning blame. Then we create a narrative that explains why this person (or group of persons) did what he or she did. And when we collectively believe in this narrative that we created, it becomes the truth of what happened. And that truth, often not supported by facts, will drive our decisions and actions.

And ultimately, that’s what’s most terrifying about terrorism: that it will drive us to lose a sense of who we are and what we stand for. That we would sacrifice our way of life – the free and democratic society that value fairness, transparency, and inclusion in all that we do through a guaranteed due process _ to blindly pursue closure for some narrative that we drafted ourselves before we know the facts. This is how terrorism threatens us, by turning us against ourselves, our own way of life. By scaring us to betray ourselves.

This is the trap we have to guard against. We have to resist the urge to scapegoat people. We have to resist the easy temptation to assign motivations to people based on our preconceptions and prejudice. We have to resist the impulse to lash out. Most of all, we have to resist the compulsion to compromise our principles and embrace our baser nature.

So, we have to endure the horror and senselessness to emerge on the other side intact in all our humanity. And we can begin by echoing Mr. Roger’s adage that went viral after the Boston bombing: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C., based expert on innovation, engagement and organizational culture. He has been writing for The Korea Times since 2006. He can be reached at jasonlim@msn.com, facebook/jasonlim2000 and @jasonlim2012.