The Suicide Bomber And Her Gift Of Death

This book is an attempt to defend the undefendable: the suicide bomber as a figure of thinking, a figure that foregrounds the singularity of each event; and it is this un-understandability-which is part of understanding itself-that the suicide bomber never lets us forget. For, the suicide bomber is the poet par excellence, reminding us of the possibility of an event; not because of the effects of her actions, but due to the gift of her life, and more importantly the unknowability that is her death. And like with poetry, all analysis only makes it worse. In this manner, (s)he remains an unending question for us; a question that even questions itself as a question. And if one maintains the question, one is always already other to everything, other even to one's self. In this way, the gap between the self and the other is maintained such that this space is never taken hostage. For, the moment this space of negotiation is gone, we are in the realm of terror.

Understanding resistance movements and armed militias in the Middle East is key in unravelling this complex and sensitive region. This book focuses on the Hezbollah group in Lebanon, combining extensive ethnography with critical insights drawn from a range of disciplines including sociology, psychology and philosophy. Instead of approaching resistance or violence through received macro-formulations, the book concentrates on micro-narratives and spatial dynamics of two critical spaces – namely, Dahiya, a Shia-majority suburb of Beirut and Hezbollah’s stronghold, and training camps, where volunteers metamorphose into militants. The book is unique in that it juxtaposes ethnographic narratives in such a way that they script their own rich tale of bodily tactics, ‘resistance’ and possible subjectivity in the realm of everyday life. They create a complex palimpsest of the history of Lebanon, Hezbollah and individuals striving to live under the ‘Islamic sphere of influence’, offsetting stereotypes and dominant historiography. This volume is a must-read for scholars, researchers, media analysts and policy groups engaged with the Middle East. It will be particularly relevant to the disciplines of Sociology, Social Anthropology, Geography, Psychology, International Relations and Area Studies with a focus on Lebanon.

The scene on May 10, 1973, seemed like something out of a Hollywood blockbuster. In the town of Kenora, on the north shore of the Lake of the Woods near the Ontario-Manitoba border, a man was robbing a bank in the most bombastic way. Paul Higgins walked into the bank armed with a home-made bomb and Dead Man's Switch in his mouth to detonate it. If anyone were to shoot him and if he let go of the switch, he would blow himself up and take as many people with him as possible. The police were in a standoff. Was it worth the risk to shoot? Acclaimed journalist Joe Ralko has spent his entire life mulling over this case. It wasn't his career that put him on the trail of Paul Higgins-Joe was there! He was a curious high school student who watched the drama unfold from the street. He had a clear line of sight down the sidewalk as Higgins emerged from the bank fifty feet away. What happened next would go down in Canadian history. Ralko would become fascinated with every aspect of the case. It was only years later, after he had established himself as a writer and while recovering from his first battle with cancer, that he decided to finally tell the story.

Like many people in America and around the world, Talal Asad experienced the events of September 11, 2001, largely through the media and the emotional response of others. For many non-Muslims, "the suicide bomber" quickly became the icon of "an Islamic culture of death" a conceptual leap that struck Asad as problematic. Is there a "religiously-motivated terrorism?" If so, how does it differ from other cruelties? What makes its motivation "religious"? Where does it stand in relation to other forms of collective violence? Drawing on his extensive scholarship in the study of secular and religious traditions as well as his understanding of social, political, and anthropological theory and research, Asad questions Western assumptions regarding death and killing. He scrutinizes the idea of a "clash of civilizations," the claim that "Islamic jihadism" is the essence of modern terror, and the arguments put forward by liberals to justify war in our time. He critically engages with a range of explanations of suicide terrorism, exploring many writers' preoccupation with the motives of perpetrators. In conclusion, Asad examines our emotional response to suicide (including suicide terrorism) and the horror it invokes. On Suicide Bombing is an original and provocative analysis critiquing the work of intellectuals from both the left and the right. Though fighting evil is an old concept, it has found new and disturbing expressions in our contemporary "war on terror." For Asad, it is critical that we remain aware of the forces shaping the discourse surrounding this mode of violence, and by questioning our assumptions about morally good and morally evil ways of killing, he illuminates the fragile contradictions that are a part of our modern subjectivity.

Animal Visions considers how literature responds to the harms of anthropocentricism, working with Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (1847) and various adaptations of this canonistic novel to show how posthumanist dream writing unsettles the privileging of the human species over other species. Two feminist and post-Freudian responses, Kathy Acker’s poem “Obsession” (1992) and Anne Carson’s “The Glass Essay” (1997) most strongly extend Brontë’s dream writing in this direction. Building on the trope of a ludic Cathy ghost who refuses the containment of logic and reason, these and other adaptations offer the gift of a radical peri-hysteria. This emotional excess is most clearly seen in Kate Bush’s music video “Wuthering Heights” (1978) and Peter Kosminsky’s film Wuthering Heights (1992). Such disturbances make space for a moor love that is particularly evident in Jane Urquhart’s novel Changing Heaven (1989) and, to a lesser extent Sylvia Plath’s poem, “Wuthering Heights” (1961). Brontë’s Wuthering Heights and its most productive afterings make space for co-affective relations between humans and other animal beings. Andrea Arnold’s film Wuthering Heights (2011) and Luis Buñuel’s Abismos de Pasión (1954) also highlight the rupturing split gaze of non-acting animals in their films. In all of these works depictions of intra-active and entangled responses between animals show the potential for dynamic and generative multispecies relations, where the human is one animal amongst the kin of the world.

What kind of people are suicide bombers? How do they justify their actions? In this meticulously researched and sensitively written book, journalist Christoph Reuter argues that popular views of these young men and women--as crazed fanatics or brainwashed automatons--fall short of the mark. In many cases these modern-day martyrs are well-educated young adults who turn themselves into human bombs willingly and eagerly--to exact revenge on a more powerful enemy, perceived as both unjust and oppressive. Suicide assassins are determined to make a difference, for once in their lives, no matter what the cost. As Reuter's many interviews with would-be martyrs, their trainers, friends, and relatives reveal, the bombers are motivated more by how they expect to be remembered--as heroic figures--than by religion-infused visions of a blissful life to come. Reuter, who spent eight years researching the book, moves from the broken survivors of the childrens' suicide brigades in the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s, to the war-torn Lebanon of Hezbollah, to Israeli-occupied Palestinian land, and to regions as disparate as Sri Lanka, Chechnya, and Kurdistan. He tells a disturbing story of the modern globalization of suicide bombing--orchestrated, as his own investigations have helped to establish, by the shadowy Al Qaeda network and unintentionally enabled by wrong-headed policies of Western governments. In a final, hopeful chapter, Reuter points to today's postrevolutionary, post-Khomeini Iran, where a new social environment renounces the horrific practice in the very place where it was enthusiastically embraced just decades ago.

We live in an age of global capitalism and terror. In a climate of consumption and fear the unknown Other is regarded as a threat to our safety, a client to assist, or a competitor to be overcome in the struggle for scarce resources. And yet, the Christian Scriptures explicitly summon us to welcome strangers, to care for the widow and the orphan, and to build relationships with those distant from us. But how, in this world of hostility and commodification, do we practice hospitality? In The Gift of the Other, Andrew Shepherd engages deeply with the influential thought of French thinkers Emmanuel Levinas and Jacques Derrida, and argues that a true vision of hospitality is ultimately found not in postmodern philosophies but in the Christian narrative. The book offers a compelling Trinitarian account of the God of hospitality--a God of communion who "makes room" for otherness, who overcomes the hostility of the world though Jesus' life, death, and resurrection, and who through the work of the Spirit is forming a new community: the Church--a people of welcome.