A debate is brewing between Norm Geras and Chris Bertram over how to respond politically to the London bombings.  Norm argues that we should not be distracted by the broad social-economic-political conditions that might have created suicide bombers, because this deflects our attention from the responsibility of not only the bombers themselves but also the "apologists among us" for terrorist violence.  Chris contends that if we draw battle lines between "us" and "them" too starkly – indicting those trying to understand the perpetrator’s motives and influence as "apologists" – we run the risk of alienating precisely those people in the British Muslim community who might be most effective in countering home-grown suicide bombers.

     This comes down to a question of how to assign blame for such horrendous actions and it echoes the debate between Confucians and Taoists; though the ancients would add a twist or two to the arguments.

     Confucius believed in personal responsibility.  Each of us is responsible for enacting Humanity, and each of us should concentrate on enacting Humanity and cause no harm to others.  If we fail in carrying out our moral duties, it is a personal fault and we should look critically inside ourselves to understand how we failed and how we might do the right thing. 

     Deep and persistent moral failings, for Confucius, are due to deficient moral eduction.  We have to learn how to enact Humanity and it takes consistent effort and thought to approach the ideal standard of Humanity.  To move toward the ideal we need continual self-awareness but also good mentors and teachers and role models.  Conversely, each of us is also responsible for being a good moral example for others.  Individuals are responsible for their actions, but family members, friends and colleagues are all a part of the ethically-informed ensemble that helps to develop the moral personality of any individual.

     For the London bombings, a Confucian response would, then, first blame the bombers themselves.  But, secondly, those closest to the bombers – family, friends, teachers, clergy, neighbors – would also bear some responsibility.  The problem would not be cast in terms of the failings "society at large" – unemployment, national political leadership, popular culture – but attention would focus on the web of social relationships that mediates larger social and political forces for the individuals involved. 

     In a sense, then, both Norm and Chris are missing the point.  It is not the "apologists among us" who are the problem – and by this Norm largely means big-time journalists penning analyses of the "root causes" of terrorism – but the much narrower and more potent network of personal relationships that surrounded the bombers and failed to identify their willingness to kill.   The challenge for Chris, then, is how to engage those closest to the bombers in a meaningful conversation to understand how the deathly behavior emerged without alienating them or enraging other members of the community.  To do this, I think, we probably need to avoid the overt language of blame but, rather, frame the discussion in terms of understanding.  Confucius, after all, believed in human perfectibility: even an action this terrible does not condemn those closest to the perpetrators to eternal moral damnation. 

     Taoism, on the other hand, would take a more extreme "root cause" position.  A Taoist would look at the awful carnage and see it in a sad but inevitable chain of made-man tragedy down through the centuries.  There is no shortage of moral outrages in  history and their depressing repetition suggests something deeply ingrained in the human condition.  In sense, then, for a Taoist, assigning blame is beside the point.  Yes, in this particular circumstance, specific individuals did something terrible.  But they will not be the last one’s to commit atrocities, just as they were not the first.  We could compare this to a stout Christian response, which would require that we forgive the perpetrators.  Taoists would not require our forgiveness, but neither would they demand our righteous anger.

     The seeming resignation of Taoists should not be taken as fatalistic complacency.  The famous "do nothing" counsel should not be taken literally.  The Tao Te Ching recognizes that action will be taken. Retaliation is understandable under the circumstances; the only question is how do we respond:

If you use the Way to help a ruler of people you never use weapons to coerce all beneath heaven.  Such things always turn against you:

fields where soldiers camp turn to thorn and bramble, and vast armies on the march leave years of misery behind.

The noble prevail if they must, then stop: they never press on to coerce the whole world.

Prevail, but never presume.  Prevail but never boast.  Prevail but never exult.  Prevail, but never when there’s another way. This is to prevail without coercing.

     So, how do we prevail without inspiring more violence?  This is not a matter of placing blame on ourselves – that would be perverse to a Taoist – rather, it is a practical political question.