The Pros And Cons Of Maximilien Robespierre

Initially popularized during the French Revolution, the term “terrorism,” at its inception, was a distinctly positive word; from the rubble of the first revolts in 1789, stemmed the regime de la terreur, an instrument of governance meant to further propel the success of the revolutionaries through the intimidation of those loyal to the dictatorial regime which governed France for much of the eighteenth century (Hoffman 3). Ironically, given the modern interpretation of terrorism, the revolutionaries who would ultimately constitute the regime de la terreur were advocating for virtue and democracy––in fact, one of the figureheads of the revolutionary movement Maximilien Robespierre was renowned for having said: “virtue, without which terror is

evil; terror, without which virtue is helpless,” (Hoffman 3). However, irrespective of their superficial differences, modern perceptions of terrorism and the French revolutionaries’ perception of the term maintain two implicit linkages: (1) terrorism, even during the revolution, was not characterized as any random act of violence conducted with malice––it was defined as the systematized form of intimidation to further advocate for the ideals of the revolution, and (2) perhaps, more dangerously, the objective and justification for their acts of terror stem from a stubborn and implacable belief that their cause shall engender a pure society free of corruption (Hoffman 5).

Indeed, the musings of Robespierre, in his advocacy for terror as a means of achieving virtue, are reminiscent of Osama Bin Laden in his “Letter to America,” citing excerpts from the Quran which read, “Permission to fight (against disbelievers) is given to those who are fought against, because they have been wronged,” (Bin Laden 1). For Bin Laden, therefore, as he fights to initiate a new world order––one that is dictated by the teachings of Allah––those who oppose him or his ideology have thus wronged him; for Robespierre, those loyal to the previous regime have thus wronged him; in either case, however, the resultant of such wrongdoing proved to be death––whether that be in the form of a plane hijacking, or the

guillotine.
Robespierre and Bin Laden’s perception of terror, nonetheless, underscore an interesting point regarding the term itself: it is unquestionably pejorative.

Hoffman makes the argument that this “characteristic of self denial distinguishes the terrorist from other types of political extremists,” in that, under duress, even those extremists whose identification with their cause could prove illicit or disreputable, would admit to those appellations for themselves; however, this is not the case for the terrorist––Hoffman claims that those dubbed terrorists will “go to great lengths to evade and obscure any such inference or connection… The terrorist will always argue that it is society or the government or the socio-economic `system' and its laws that are the real `terrorists', and moreover that if it were not for this oppression, he would not have felt the need to defend either himself or the population he claims to represent,” (Hoffman 20). This is evinced by an anecdote offered by Terry Anderson, an American journalist taken hostage by Shiite Hezbollah militants for nearly seven years, wherein he details a conversation with one of his captors: upon reading a newspaper’s characterizing Hezbollah as a terrorist organization, the guard’s visceral reaction is a disassociation from the term, indignantly responding that “we are not terrorists, we are fighters” (Politifact). On the surface, the guard’s statement offers no tangible conclusion other than there exists a connotative

difference between “terrorists” and “fighters”; however, given his desire to be separated from the former, the suggestion is that “terrorists” fall below the denomination of a “fighter.” As the guard saw it––and how those we dub terrorists in the modern era see it––the term “terrorist” is an aspersion thrust upon one’s enemy or ideological opponent––it implies a moral judgment being placed upon the actions of that person or group, offering no sense of redemption for their actions. As such, the guard could not have allowed for himself or his organization to be called a terrorist because he did not perceive its motives to be the same as that of Anderson. It is here that we extract perhaps the most important aspect of terror: to dub someone a terrorist is inescapably subjective––principally contingent on where your sympathies lie regarding their actions.
This subjectivity came to fruition following the scandal that followed the Munich Olympics massacre––an attack during the games wherein Black September, a Palestinian terrorist group, took eleven Israeli competitors hostage, and ultimately killed them.