Was the attack on Fort Hood terrorism?
Politicians like Sen. Joe Lieberman (I-CT) and Rep. Pete Hoekstra (R-MI) are being careful not to call terrorism outright, but are beginning to raise the issue.
Addressing the issue of Nidal Hasan’s relationship with a former Virginia-based imam Anwar al-Aulaqi, Hoekstra said, “For me, the number of times that this guy tried to reach out to the imam was significant.” Hoekstra added, “Al-Qaeda and radical jihadists use the Internet to spread radical jihadism….So how much of [Hasan’s] lashing out is a result of…his access to radical messages on the Internet and the ability to interact?”
“I believe that the responses from Aulaqi were maybe pretty innocent,” Hoekstra continued. “But the very fact that he’s sent e-mail…to this guy and got responses would be quite a concern to me.”
While I was tempted to make fun of Hoekstra (“He sent an email?!?!?! You’re right, Congressman, it must be a plot!”), after reading Aulaqi’s post-incident statement praising Hasan’s actions, it’s clear that there is enough cause for concern to warrant a discussion. Aulaqi’s words are pretty chilling: “The only way a Muslim could Islamically justify serving as a soldier in the U.S. Army is if his intention is to follow the footsteps of men like Nidal.”
However, based on what we know now, the available evidence suggests that the Fort Hood tragedy was a case of a very sick man who reacted violently to his impending deployment to Afghanistan. In other words, it was not terrorism.
Depending on if you ask the State Department, E.U., or United Nations, definitions of the term will slightly vary. However, all definitions agree that terrorism’s aim is “to provoke a state of terror in the general public or in a group of persons or particular persons, intimidate a population to compel a government or an international organization to do or to abstain from doing any act.” (UN Security Council Resolution 1566, 2004)
On balance, Hasan’s case does not meet this standard.
While you could argue that Hasan’s attack was motivated by a 2007 speech where he recommended Muslims should be released from military service as conscientious objectors, that “policy” recommendation was more reflective of his growing objections, mental confusion, and discomfort as a Muslim in the American military. It was personal, not political.
Consider his life story: A second-generation Muslim-American, he joined the military probably more for what it offered (an education) than because of his conviction to serve. His faith grew, and he became more aware of objections to the military’s deployments, eventually hiring a lawyer and offering to repay tuition fees in return for a discharge.
As a psychiatrist, he was exposed to an endless parade of mentally and physically traumatized service members whose experiences no doubt reinforced Hasan’s objections to military service and deployment to a war zone, and placed him in a more fragile mental state.
All the while, he maintained communication with the former imam, Aulaqi (now based in Yemen), whose own (and possibly very different) motivations for hating the U.S. may have indeed influenced Hasan to “do something” about his upcoming deployment. While Congress will also surely question the FBI about what it knew about their communications, hindsight is 20/20, and the bureau’s assessment at the time – that the emails between Aulaqi and Hasan did not warrant an investigation – was appropriate given its finite resources.
But at the end of the day, Hasan acted alone, and was probably driven by being a Muslim-American in the military who was exposed to a series of encounters that degraded his emotional health. Closer to the 2007 tragedy at Virginia Tech, Hasan’s killing spree seems more the product of deep mental instability and personal anxieties that manifested themselves in the most horrific way possible.