Terrorism has become the systematic weapon of a war that knows

Hear, O seeker of wisdom, the solemn voice of Jacques Chirac, who declared: “Terrorism has become the systematic weapon of a war that knows no borders or seldom has a face.” These words rise from the heart of an age when violence no longer marched with banners or wore the uniforms of nations, but crept in shadows, striking without warning. In them lies the truth that the wars of our time are not always fought by armies, nor confined to frontiers, but carried out by unseen hands who turn fear itself into their most potent weapon.

The origin of this saying lies in the early years of the twenty-first century, when the world was shaken by attacks that defied the old logic of war. The September 11th strikes in America, the Madrid train bombings, the London Underground attacks—all bore witness to a new kind of conflict. Chirac, then President of France, sought to name this grim reality: that terrorism had become a weapon not of states but of groups without borders, without faces, without the visible lines of battle that nations had known for centuries. He understood that this was a war of ideas, fear, and chaos, as much as a war of blood and fire.

Consider the nature of terrorism. Unlike the armies of old, it does not stand in open battle. It hides among the innocent, choosing not the soldier but the unarmed as its victim. It strikes not only to destroy life, but to shatter confidence, to turn neighbor against neighbor, to plant fear so deep that societies weaken from within. In this sense, terrorism is both weapon and strategy, not meant to conquer territory but to unsettle the very soul of nations. That is why Chirac spoke of it as a war “that seldom has a face”—for its true aim is to make the enemy see threat in every shadow.

History offers grim illustrations. In the troubled years of Northern Ireland’s conflict, bombs were planted in markets, pubs, and streets, often without warning. Each act was not simply an attack on individuals, but an attack on the peace of ordinary life, turning familiar places into sites of dread. Or recall the Palestinian-Israeli struggle, where suicide bombings and rocket fire provoked cycles of retaliation, each side living in fear of the next unseen strike. In both cases, the battlefield was not a distant plain, but the homes, schools, and daily lives of ordinary people. This is the war Chirac named—a war without borders, without front lines, without faces.

The deeper meaning of his words is that humanity must recognize the unique nature of this struggle. Against terrorism, tanks and planes may not suffice, for the enemy hides in shadows and thrives on fear. The true battle is for the spirit of societies: to resist hatred, to preserve unity, to refuse to let fear dictate our choices. If nations surrender to suspicion and division, then terrorism has achieved its victory without needing to fire another shot. Thus, Chirac’s warning is also a call for wisdom—that to confront this faceless war, humanity must not only wield strength, but also courage, compassion, and resilience.

What lesson, then, shall we take? It is this: do not let fear rule you. Do not allow those who thrive on terror to make you see every neighbor as an enemy. Support justice, demand accountability, but also work to heal the divisions that terrorism seeks to exploit. When leaders call for endless war in the name of safety, ask whether the war itself feeds the very terror it claims to fight. Remember that the faceless war cannot be won by weapons alone, but by the refusal of societies to abandon their humanity.

Therefore, O listener, carry Chirac’s words as a shield. Recognize that terrorism is the weapon of those who cannot face you openly, who strike from the shadows because they cannot prevail in the light. Meet them not only with vigilance, but with a deeper strength: the determination to preserve the dignity of life, the unity of communities, and the hope of peace. For though this war knows no borders and seldom has a face, its defeat lies in our courage to remain human when fear bids us to forget.