There is a species of baculovirus that infects gypsy moth caterpillars. Before it kills the host, it takes control of it and forces it to climb to the top of the nearest tree so that after it dies millions of copies of the virus rain down, infecting more and more caterpillars.
Terrorism works the same way.
Like any good virus, it knows how to mutate itself to get through the defenses of a new host. It makes itself look familiar and wraps itself in a disguise — like a religion or a cultural identity. And once it gets in, it starts to take control of the host, whispering in its ear that “those people over there” are the problem. “They are out to get you,” it warns. Left unchecked, the virus causes a fever that alters the very perception of the host. The world is transformed into an unreal nightmare that justifies truly terrifying behaviour. “We must attack them before they attack us,” it starts to chant.
That is how the virus spreads. It forces the host to act in menacing ways so that, soon, those around them start to feel the fear. Then the virus wraps itself in a new disguise and starts whispering once again. Muslims fear westerners. Christians fear Muslims. Blue states fear red states.
We, you and I, are the last line of defense against the advance of terrorism. Our government and a fair number of our fellow citizens have already fallen prey. Even some of our friends. They are caught in a fevered nightmare. Their reality is distorted, and threatens to drag us into their delusion.
Actually, truth be told, we are already infected. Anytime we fall into “us / them” thinking, anytime we hear a little voice whisper “it’s those people over there… we need to get rid of them,” then we know; we too have a hint of a fever.
Luckily, we have defenses against this virus. Generations of our ancestors have suffered through outbreaks of terror and lived to tell the tale. To survive, they tell us, we must starve the fever. The virus is only dangerous when it starts to multiply unchecked, and it feeds on attention. When you acknowledge that whispering fear, when you start to divide the world into this versus that, you are feeding the virus. And, when fed, it grows exponentially. The first suspicion starts to warp your perception: suddenly, (it seems) there are dangers everywhere. And those dangers justify more suspicion and that warps perception even more. Threats multiply and soon, your back is against the wall; nothing to do but fight, to attack.
So, we must starve the virus of attention. Learn to recognize that betraying voice and turn away from its siren song.
And we can also feed the other wolf, the feeling that is the opposite of fear: love, understanding, curiosity, generosity, joy, gratitude. We can nurture our souls in the company of true friends; people who let us be our full and complete selves, warts and all and who love us not despite of our imperfections but because of them. We can make a daily practice of gratitude, humility, generosity and compassion and grow this like a muscle. We can face our biggest fears with the fierce courage of a vulnerable heart, knowing that failure is utterly impossible.
But do not be deceived; this is a battle. The dark side is seductive. Righteous indignation is a powerful drug. So is fear. Evil is real (but not what you think). Our salvation, yours and mine, requires a sacrifice and you must offer it willingly. We must be willing to risk falling into the abyss, if only to prove there was never a risk in the first place.
A final note to First Responders in the Real War on Terror: make sure your inoculations are up-to-date before you approach anyone in a fever. Remember, we are at war with the virus, not the host. Have compassion for them. Remember that we have all had moments of the same feverish delusions; moments when it feels like the world is an armed camp of Us and Them, and it feels like our backs are against the wall and we have no alternatives but to fight; to attack first.
Remember: Starve their fever. Feed their other wolf.
