The Attacks in Boston and the Globalization of Fear
From Boston to the South China Sea, "fear" of terrorism, war and pollution seems to have become globalized. Yet it is within globalization that we can channel these fears.
In May 1981, John Paul II survived an assassination attempt. Thirty years later, in May 2011, Osama bin Laden was eliminated by U.S. special forces.
However, in the spring of 2013, one might think that the charismatic pope who forcefully said “have no fear” has lost, while the fundamentalist leader who wanted the “world of infidels” to live in fear has prevailed.
Indeed, fear is everywhere today. The bombs that exploded at the Boston Marathon have only reinforced a sense of insecurity and loss of control which affects almost all areas of life. Admittedly, April 15, 2013 is not on the same level as Sept. 11, 2001, but its symbolic value goes beyond the number of victims. This is an attack against a high-profile international competition that reflects the value of effort in a democratic society, on the same day that the U.S. celebrates the beginning of its uprising against the British motherland (known as Patriot Day). Further, this attack is an act committed by terrorists who lived for many years on American soil and, for the younger of the suspects at least, seemed to have fully integrated into the American melting pot.
But the fear of terrorism in all its forms is only one component of the accumulated fears that, both in their diversity and their simultaneity, help to create an increasingly tense environment for the whole world. There is fear of the extension of civil wars in the Arab world following the revolutions already in progress. There is also a widespread fear of war — in the most classic sense — between China and Japan in the South China Sea. There is fear of social unrest in Europe in the face of the rise of economic crisis and unemployment. We should not forget the fear of global warming, pesticides and the death of bees, pandemics … the list is endless.
"The triumph of fear" is actually a direct result of the process of globalization itself. The world is not necessarily becoming "flat," as The New York Times’ Thomas Friedman wrote a few years back, but it certainly gives the impression of becoming always "smaller." Not only have all of its territories been explored, but the transparency and interdependence of the world also make “the other” seem more menacing than ever. In this dual reality we should probably mention the urbanization process. By 2050, over 60 percent of humanity will live in cities, and more and more in megacities, which will be sprawling and agonizing realities, a source of energy and vibrations that can turn anything of any size and diversity into a threat. Where does cultural enrichment end and the fear of the extreme heterogeneity begin? "Hell is other people," wrote Jean-Paul Sartre. In the world of globalization, others are not only infinitely more numerous, but they are also, in some way or another, everywhere. They are at the hearts of our cities, our universities: a source of hope when we feel good about ourselves and a great factor of anxiety when we feel dominated by fear.
In this context, can we say that "we will the others that we deserve," as the more generous and lucid of the French could discern after World War II, that “we have the Germany that we deserve”?
Fear is a dangerous poison that drives us to look with suspicion upon those who are not like us. In doing so, this creates a dangerous boomerang effect, and so we strengthen the feeling of humiliation and the identity crisis of all those who believe that globalization is not made for them and that, whatever happens, they will not be able to integrate culturally or socially in societies that are still open, such as ours are. Faced with the fear of failing in their integration, they put themselves in a suicidal attitude. "Since I could never fully exist in your company by my success, then I will justify with my actions the suspicious gaze that you place upon me."
There is no system of security that can fully prevent the rage of terrorists, the violence of deranged minds, the erratic nature of the markets, the crisis of identity and the sense of humiliation of all those that we believe we treat with equality. But if the growth of the culture of fear is at least partly a product of globalization, wanting to end this is neither a possible nor desirable solution.
It is inside of globalization itself that we must sublimate our fears, transcend them or at least channel them so as not to become prisoners. How can we find the right balance between the need for societies to remain as they are, or at least as they should be — open and tolerant, respectful of differences — and the absolute necessity of security against the proliferation of threats, real or imagined, which assail us and now seem to surround us?
Our answer will depend on the nature, whether balanced or frightening, of globalization.
Dominique Moisi, a professor at King's College, is a special adviser to the French Institute of International Relations.
In May 1981, John Paul II survived an assassination attempt. Thirty years later, in May 2011, Osama bin Laden was eliminated by U.S. special forces.
However, in the spring of 2013, one might think that the charismatic pope who forcefully said “have no fear” has lost, while the fundamentalist leader who wanted the “world of infidels” to live in fear has prevailed.
Indeed, fear is everywhere today. The bombs that exploded at the Boston Marathon have only reinforced a sense of insecurity and loss of control which affects almost all areas of life. Admittedly, April 15, 2013 is not on the same level as Sept. 11, 2001, but its symbolic value goes beyond the number of victims. This is an attack against a high-profile international competition that reflects the value of effort in a democratic society, on the same day that the U.S. celebrates the beginning of its uprising against the British motherland (known as Patriot Day). Further, this attack is an act committed by terrorists who lived for many years on American soil and, for the younger of the suspects at least, seemed to have fully integrated into the American melting pot.
But the fear of terrorism in all its forms is only one component of the accumulated fears that, both in their diversity and their simultaneity, help to create an increasingly tense environment for the whole world. There is fear of the extension of civil wars in the Arab world following the revolutions already in progress. There is also a widespread fear of war — in the most classic sense — between China and Japan in the South China Sea. There is fear of social unrest in Europe in the face of the rise of economic crisis and unemployment. We should not forget the fear of global warming, pesticides and the death of bees, pandemics … the list is endless.
"The triumph of fear" is actually a direct result of the process of globalization itself. The world is not necessarily becoming "flat," as The New York Times’ Thomas Friedman wrote a few years back, but it certainly gives the impression of becoming always "smaller." Not only have all of its territories been explored, but the transparency and interdependence of the world also make “the other” seem more menacing than ever. In this dual reality we should probably mention the urbanization process. By 2050, over 60 percent of humanity will live in cities, and more and more in megacities, which will be sprawling and agonizing realities, a source of energy and vibrations that can turn anything of any size and diversity into a threat. Where does cultural enrichment end and the fear of the extreme heterogeneity begin? "Hell is other people," wrote Jean-Paul Sartre. In the world of globalization, others are not only infinitely more numerous, but they are also, in some way or another, everywhere. They are at the hearts of our cities, our universities: a source of hope when we feel good about ourselves and a great factor of anxiety when we feel dominated by fear.
In this context, can we say that "we will the others that we deserve," as the more generous and lucid of the French could discern after World War II, that “we have the Germany that we deserve”?
Fear is a dangerous poison that drives us to look with suspicion upon those who are not like us. In doing so, this creates a dangerous boomerang effect, and so we strengthen the feeling of humiliation and the identity crisis of all those who believe that globalization is not made for them and that, whatever happens, they will not be able to integrate culturally or socially in societies that are still open, such as ours are. Faced with the fear of failing in their integration, they put themselves in a suicidal attitude. "Since I could never fully exist in your company by my success, then I will justify with my actions the suspicious gaze that you place upon me."
There is no system of security that can fully prevent the rage of terrorists, the violence of deranged minds, the erratic nature of the markets, the crisis of identity and the sense of humiliation of all those that we believe we treat with equality. But if the growth of the culture of fear is at least partly a product of globalization, wanting to end this is neither a possible nor desirable solution.
It is inside of globalization itself that we must sublimate our fears, transcend them or at least channel them so as not to become prisoners. How can we find the right balance between the need for societies to remain as they are, or at least as they should be — open and tolerant, respectful of differences — and the absolute necessity of security against the proliferation of threats, real or imagined, which assail us and now seem to surround us?
Our answer will depend on the nature, whether balanced or frightening, of globalization.
Dominique Moisi, a professor at King's College, is a special adviser to the French Institute of International Relations.