Imagine driving through the desert in the
Middle East. It's a warm day and the windows are rolled down. A
breeze caresses your face as the car bounces and slides along
the sandy road. You're in the middle of an energetic
conversation with five of your fellow terrorists, plotting your
next attack against Americans.
Suddenly your eye catches something in the
distance. You're not quite sure what it is but it seems to be
getting larger. And now in the last nano-seconds of your life
here on earth the awful realization descends over you, but it's
too late.
You're face-to-face with a missile. BLAM!
It's all over.
I have no idea if this is the way the
scenario unfolded in Yemen recently when a Hellfire missile
launched from a CIA drone blew six al Qaeda members to
smithereens as they were riding together in their automobile. It
might be they never knew what hit them. Only smoldering debris
and a few body parts were left after the explosion, so there
were no possibilities for interviews.
In a slightly different vein, I wonder what
went through the minds of the 9/11 terrorists during the last
seconds of their lives as they flew jumbo jets into towers of
glass and steel, the Pentagon, or the field in rural
Pennsylvania. They had plenty of time to ponder what was coming.
What force motivates an obsession for
martyrdom coupled with a desire to murder innocent men, women,
and children? Radical Muslim fundamentalists would answer the
will of Allah.
In the Christian religion, martyrdom is a
well-known concept. Many saints have gone on to their eternal
reward, dying for their beliefs at the hands of those who
rejected their message and sought to silence the messenger.
Living in America, where we are protected by
the First Amendment, we have a distorted view of martyrdom. It's
easy to picture it in terms of First-century Christians being
thrown to the lions in the Roman Coliseum. But the martyrdom of
Christians didn't end with Rome's demise.
In the 20th century alone, more Christians
died for their faith world-wide than in the previous 19
centuries combined.
These Christian fundamentalists -- extremists
of a different sort -- were driven by their convictions. They
too were obsessed, willing to pay the ultimate price with their
lives for what they believed.
So what's the difference between Islamic
fundamentalists and Christian fundamentalists? It might be hard
to discern if your only sources for information are the
newspapers. Earlier this year The New York Times referred to
Islamic radicals as "the religious right."
The motivation for a Christian's willingness
to give up his own life is the cause of Christ. But the means
for the furtherance of the Gospel has never been through
violence or by force. Jesus said "Greater love has no one
than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."
Since the war on terrorism began, there has
been no sharper contrast between the radical elements of Islam
and the radical elements of Christianity than that demonstrated
by the heroes of United flight 93 and the monsters who hijacked
the aircraft after killing the crew by dragging box cutters
across their throats. Each group believed that the situation
called for the ultimate sacrifice. Yet one group was motivated
by hatred and the other by love.
While each claimed they were serving God, it
is impossible that both were correct.
Which brings us back to the desert in Yemen
and our six terrorists. When that Hellfire missile exploded,
sending them into kingdom come, it wasn't really over.
They went out into eternity but, baring any
last second repentance, suddenly found themselves surrounded by
a different kind of hell fire.
And that will ultimately prove to be the
final and most effective weapon in the war against terrorism.