Stuxnet, part II

Courtesy Makki98
Wikimedia Commons

Back in December, I posted "A Theology for Stuxnet." Today, William J. Broad, John Markoff, and David E. Sanger report for the New York Times about the backdrop, technological capacity, development and testing (at the Dimona complex in the Negev Desert) of the Stuxnet computer worm. In brief, this worm was specifically designed to destroy Iran's nuclear enrichment facility. It seems increasingly likely the United States and Israel cooperated to develop this highly sophisticated cyberweapon.

There is an ethical dimension to this cyberattack. To be sure, any attack raises ethical questions. When, if ever, is it acceptable to take life? Under what circumstances might one justify targeted killings and assassinations? Is it ever acceptable to put civilians (non-combatants) in harm's way, or to view their harm as unfortunate but reasonable "collateral damage?"

Stuxnet's sophistication is revealed in how particular its intended target is. The worm was designed only to strike the particular conditions that prevail in the Iranian nuclear enrichment facility. It's as if a bullet could be designed only to kill a particular person; it could be fired into a crowd, since only its intended target would be killed.

Courtesy: Grixlkraxl (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0]
Wikimedia Commons

What's also clear, however, is that code for Stuxnet will be re-used and its possible targets will expand dramatically. When nuclear weapons were used to end WWII, the technology to produce the weapon was a secret; it's no longer a secret. In the case of Stuxnet, the worm was deployed (albeit with secretive elements, some meant to cover and erase their own tracks) into a public domain. We know that the code is being studied. The genie is out of the bottle.

Thus, it's too early to celebrate the attack on Iran, even though it appears to have been highly successful. The attack was a calculated move, one meant to prevent a nuclear standoff. That is arguably all to the good. Stuxnet may, however, be used to cause unforeseen harm. If it does, who shall we hold responsible? And what kind of celebration will then be possible?

Paul Krugman's Op-Ed, recommended reading

RITN recommends Paul Krugman's Op-Ed piece "Climate of Hate." Krugman argues that "eliminationist rhetoric"--inducements to eliminate political opponents--leads to a climate in which atrocities such as the shootings in Arizona occur. He further argues that such rhetoric is heard emanating from the Right (e.g., Beck, O'Reilly) but not the Left (e.g., Maddow, Olbermann). This may be an overstatement, but the right is angrier, more vocal about its anger, and more inclined to suggest that violence has a political place. Its aggressive defense of the Second Amendment is a not very veiled political statement. One doesn't need to consult Thortein Veblen to draw that conclusion.

Yesterday's RITN post argued, however, that there is a deeper, shared context that is provoking both the right and the left--and everyone else. That is, the world in which we live (our hopes, values, expectations, and the like) is radically changing, and we know that where it ends up is out of our control. We also know that the previous generation's political syntheses, the Democratic Party's liberalism and war on poverty and the Republican Party's war on liberalism and government-is-likely-to-be-evil philosophy, are incapable of leading us unto the twenty-first century. Whence cometh our help?

Th anger is rising, and we are living in the early throes of what could be a long, nasty, and brutish period.

For all this, it remains to be seen whether someone in either major political party can bridge the gaps and develop a new synthesis. Obama appears to be trying, but the gap may be too wide. It may also be that bridging Democratic and Republican positions is untenable, with compromises having the effect of denying the difficult choices that face us.

Political Debate and Violence

Rep. Gabrielle Giffords

Yesterday, I posted at Creedible.com on the importance of seeking reasoned public debate over matters such as the healthcare bill. In particular, I was responding to the Obama administration's on-again, off-again approach to the end-of-life counseling as a provision of healthcare legislation. Each time the administration tries to include this counseling as a provision of the healthcare bill, it is politically construed as sponsoring death panels. Whatever one thinks of healthcare legislation--good people are for it, and good people are against it--these claims deliberately misconstrue the law for political purposes.

In the post, I argued larger issues are at stake:

These debates reveal that as a people we are aware important things are changing—religion, politics, economics—and we are uncertain about the future. Thus, we want to get right what we’re doing now.

In itself that is a good thing for which to aim, of course. The question of our character is whether we can see that the views of our political, religious, and economic opponents are as thoughtful as our own. The tendency to demonize our opponents must be deliberately rejected. It may take an act of political faith, but I believe politicians who adopt thoughtful strategies of engaging the opposition will be honored by voters in coming elections. Whether that’s true is not really the point from a civic and moral point of view, for which doing the right thing is more than reason enough.

Let’s agree to try to listen to each other, and to reject false portrayals of our political opponents. Reasoned conversation is a key element of public theology. In the book of Isaiah, the Lord speaks to the people through the prophet to say, “Come, let us reason together.” Let’s follow this ancient counsel.

The shooting in Arizona of Gabrielle Giffords and 18 others shows how high the stakes are. The shooter--a disturbed youth, apparently--should not be our primary focus. Rather, we should think about our political problems with an eye to how each of the established political positions contributes to them.

As a nation, we consume more than we produce, want more than we are willing and probably able to pay for, live within a worldview that is dated, fear government intrusion in our lives but fail to see how much we rely on governmental structures, are less able than our Chinese and Indian counterparts to work together, and are prone to political childishness.

We really must work to renew our political culture and civic life and confront the larger problems facing us together. It's unclear at this moment whether we will be able to do that. The tragedy in Arizona should lead us to self-reflection--fear and trembling--but it is unlikely to do so.

Attacks Against Pakistani Sufis

Islamic militants in Pakistan--hard liners, extremists, whatever term we might use--have over the last several years been increasingly attacking Sufi Muslims, Huma Imtiaz and Charlotte Bunchen report for the New York Times At War blog.



The Sufis are targeted for a variety of reasons, arguably the most salient of which is that they represent a variant of Islam unlike the monolith championed by the militants. The Sufis are especially inclined to singing and dancing and sharing God's love with others. That is a strong counterpoint to committing acts of terror as a means of waging jihad against the infidels. The Sufis also may be viewed as dupes of pro-Western Pakistani authorities, and indeed the report suggest that the United States is treating them as a political tool to be used against the militants.

The militants' decision to target such groups will in the long run--if not in the shorter term--further deligitimize their efforts, both within Pakistan and Afghanistan, and in the larger Islamic world. Insofar as the purse strings powering the terror movements extend across the Islamic world, this strategy will backfire.

It's sad that the Sufis are caught in this hellfire, and that they are used as pawns on the one side, and targeted for killing on the other. The true madness of this conflict--a madness only possible under the aspect of the divine--here shows its true colors. Yet in this saddest of realities, a glimmer of hope shines through. If we listen closely, the tinker of a Sufi bell can be heard beneath the din of war.