Are we at war ?

Are we at war ?

In 1957, on the day he received the Nobel Prize in Literature, Albert #Camus gave, in his speech, a very worrying perspective on the condition of his world. He described the successive wars that his generation had had to endure, and the new threats that societies had then to deal with.   

« Ces hommes, nés au début de la première guerre mondiale, qui ont eu vingt ans au moment ou s'installaient à la fois le pouvoir hitlérien et les premiers procès révolutionnaires, qui ont été confrontés ensuite, pour parfaire leur éducation, à la guerre d'Espagne, à la deuxième guerre mondiale, à l'univers concentrationnaire, à l'Europe de la torture et des prisons, doivent aujourd'hui élever leurs fils et leurs oeuvres dans un monde menacé de destruction nucléaire. Personne, je suppose, ne peut leur demander d'être optimistes. »

In order to describe our today’s world, a new line could easily be added, and optimism is no easy thing today too. Still, I was surprised of the promptitude by which the term « war » was imposed on the political scene and in the media. We are only armed with a small week of distance from the attacks that were perpetrated in the streets of Paris, but it seems clear to me that the use of this term is not appropriate. This is not just a semantical debate, especially when it comes to tell about death, and the use of such a term, in my opinion, serves more our opponents than ourselves.

I tend to recognize that speaking of a « war » to tell about France’s confrontation to jihadism is tempting: the fear of death, and the proximity of the threat reminds, in the collective conscience, what a « state of war » may look like. Also, it is true that France lived « war scenes », but these should not be confused with a war. I also believe that the adoption of this term is especially linked to its use by the state, and also to the actions that were led by it. The term did not impose by itself, its adoption was built. We may be « making war », but we are hardly « at war ». 

Perhaps it would have been possible to speak of a « war » if the conflict opposed a state to another state. Instead, we are assisting to attacks by a pseudo-state (Daesh) against civilians. Conversely to a war, this conflict does not really involve the defense of a territory. There is therefore a striking asymmetry between the so-said belligerents, but the term « war » does not allow to understand it. 

Most of all, saying that France is now in war against Daesh means granting Daesh and its soldiers with the dignity of and the status of a legitimate combattant. This is a first form of « defeat ». 

Mentioning the term « defeat » leads me to another point: the fight against terrorism cannot be associated to a war because there is no « victory » possible. Why is that ? Because the enemy is not clearly identified, because it is spread, and most of all, because it is infinite. Killing « soldiers » or destroying training camps may weaken Daesh for a (short) time, but it also fuels hatred against the so-said Occident, and it does not prevent the emergence of new terrorists. Terrorism was in some newspapers compared to an Hydra, in the extent that cutting off a head leads to the birth of several others. 

What are we living then ? Characterizing and living a situation at the very same time is a hard thing. But since it has no rules, no foreseeable end, and no ethic limitations, what we are living may be even worse than war. In the same speech that I quoted previously, Camus added : 

« Chaque génération, sans doute, se croit vouée à refaire le monde. La mienne sait pourtant qu'elle ne le refera pas. Mais sa tâche est peut-être plus grande. Elle consiste à empêcher que le monde se défasse. »

Maybe we should, too, take Camus’s burden for us. One man can only do small things against the enormous troubles in the world, but each time someone stands up for freedom ideals, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope.