Londoners are no strangers to terror. First the German Luftwaffe tried to raze the ancient city to the ground. Then came the Irish Republican Army and its sporadic bombing campaigns from the 1970s to the 1990s, which targeted the financial district and the seat of government.

But in neither case was the threat so insidious, so familiar and yet so difficult to identify. The practitioners of modern super-terrorism are motivated neither by territorial gain nor by constitutional change. Their objectives are more ambitious: to change the balance of power between the West and the Muslim world one atrocity at a time. Assuming that the multiple bombings of July 7 were committed by long-term residents of Britain, their effects will go far beyond the immediate physical damage; they will polarize society, corroding relations between certain religious/ethnic groups and the wider community.

Britain is a different country than it was in 1940, but the stiff upper lip still resides in the collective DNA. Living memory of past outrages is one of the best defences against the temptation to succumb to public hysteria. Those who have been bombed out of their homes or offices, enduring the loss of loved ones or the removal of shards of glass from their faces do not become insensitive to death and destruction. Indeed, they carry internal and external scars for the rest of their days. Yet their survival, like the union of a government and its people in shock, revulsion, and mourning, is a stern rebuke to those who would inflict harm on the vulnerable as a way of bringing about political change.

But Britain’s cities, like those in most Western countries, will continue to be tempting targets for the captains and foot soldiers of al-Qaeda and other affiliated groups. Large urban centres host major media organizations, upon which the terrorists rely to publicize their sinister exploits. Cities contain more cops than rural areas but, paradoxically, are more difficult to police. Most city-dwellers are strangers to each other. If one’s behaviour is suspicious it is less likely that it will be noticed by, say, fellow commuters. British police have installed security cameras in city centres and other public thoroughfares prone to petty crime. But perennial concerns over personal privacy circumscribe the use of these devices for counter-terrorism.

Cities also have mass transit systems which offer opportunities to inflict mass casualties. It is no coincidence that the Madrid train bombings of March 2004 and the sarin gas attacks on the Tokyo subway system in 1995 happened at the height of rush hour. In both cases the perpetrators sought to maximize the body count and the economic damage, as well as foster a lasting sense of public insecurity. The July 7 bombers did not succeed in doing the former. By all accounts the City of London’s emergency services performed admirably. But what could they hope to accomplish when the seven separate blasts were calculated to dilute their efforts? Three of the four explosions took place underground and in confined spaces, amplifying their effects.

Western cities are the most multicultural, multi-racial in the world. Large expatriate communities can either foster or, more likely, be the unwitting incubators of radicalism. Even if communities themselves are divided over what relations should be established with the wider society, and on what terms, elements within may already be plotting their own public policy – policy that does not envision any sense of civic unity, let alone peaceful forms of political protest.  

So what are we to make of the manner in which these murders were committed? Suicide bombings are more likely to be perpetrated by visitors to the target country, or by short-term, unassimilated residents. If the explosions originated in packages left on the public transit system, it is clear that the terrorists were not possessed by a martyr complex. Their desire to plant their sinister wares and escape suggests that they are either native to or long-time residents of the United Kingdom, able to move around with confidence and impunity.

The city which endured the IRA will almost certainly prevail over the latest in a long line of tormentors. But the stakes are higher than in previous era, and the public not nearly as unified. Primitive nuclear, biological, and chemical devices have the potential to murder more efficiently than plastic explosives wired to cell phones. And whereas the people that lived through the Blitz were united in the struggle against Hitlerite fascism, a not insignificant portion of the British public is uncomfortable with their government’s approach to ‘Islamofascism’. The super-terrorists who helped bring down the government of Jose Maria Aznar in March of 2004 have little hope of unseating Tony Blair, or of breaking the international coalition arrayed against them. But they can certainly water it down. Recall that within days of the Spanish elections, Mr. Aznar’s successor ordered Spanish troops out of Iraq.

In the days and weeks ahead, Mr. Blair must brace himself for charges that his support for the Iraq war brought destruction to the economic and cultural engine of the British Isles. It is impossible to know for sure how much he could have lent his support to the ‘war on terror’ without risking the wrath of Osama bin Laden. But it seems likely that some will not give him the benefit of the doubt, and will transfer responsibility for the murders from the bombers to the Labour government. In doing so they will tacitly encourage the militants to step up their campaign of terror, to keep the sword of Damocles hovering perpetually over the heads of all Londoners, all visitors to that dynamic city, and, by extension, all Westerners who enjoy the advantages of cosmopolitan life.

One thing is clear amid the smoke and debris of the London underground: the murderers are already among us. They are patient, motivated, stealthy and immune to public revulsion to their crimes. They are the repositories of an ideology that effortlessly penetrates national borders and exploits the weak, the naïve and the discontented. They think globally and act locally, pitting country against country, state against community, and citizen against citizen. They are in many ways the ultimate weapon of the twenty-first century. They know that there is no defence except capitulation. And that is why one must fervently hope that today’s Londoners, like their indefatigable ancestors, are made of sterner stuff.

David Rudd is the President and Executive Director of the CISS.

Copyright CISS 2005

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