Wanton killing of innocent civilians is terrorism, not a war

Hear, O seeker of justice, the piercing words of Noam Chomsky: “Wanton killing of innocent civilians is terrorism, not a war against terrorism.” In these lines, sharp as iron, he unmasks the hypocrisy of power. For too often, nations clothe their violence in the robes of righteousness, naming it defense or liberation. Yet Chomsky reminds us that the death of innocents, whether by the hand of rebel or empire, is still the same evil. To spill the blood of those who are guiltless is not justice—it is terrorism, even when carried out beneath the banners of great nations.

The origin of this saying comes from Chomsky’s lifelong critique of U.S. foreign policy, especially in the wake of the September 11 attacks. In those years, the world was told of a global “war on terror.” Armies were dispatched, bombs were dropped, and governments declared that their purpose was noble. Yet in the deserts of Iraq, in the mountains of Afghanistan, in the streets where drones struck without warning, it was the innocent—children, women, the old and the poor—who paid the heaviest price. Chomsky’s words call out this bitter contradiction: how can one wage a war against terrorism while committing acts that mirror its cruelty?

History itself bears witness. Recall the bombing of Dresden in 1945, when Allied firestorms consumed a city of civilians, leaving tens of thousands dead. The war was against tyranny, yet the act itself was indistinguishable from the horror it sought to defeat. Or remember My Lai in Vietnam, where unarmed villagers were massacred in the name of fighting communism. Each of these tragedies proves Chomsky’s warning: that noble names cannot cleanse the stain of innocent blood. Killing the defenseless is always terrorism, no matter who orders it.

The deeper meaning of his words is that morality cannot be bent to convenience. If terrorism is defined as the deliberate slaughter of innocents to achieve political ends, then nations, too, can be guilty of terrorism when they abandon restraint. Chomsky reminds us that justice is indivisible. One cannot condemn the terror of the weak while sanctifying the terror of the strong. To do so is to poison the very idea of justice itself, and to teach the world that power, not morality, decides what is right.

Consider also the consequences of such hypocrisy. When innocents perish under the guise of a war on terror, their families, their neighbors, their nations are filled not with gratitude, but with rage. Thus violence breeds more violence, and terrorism begets more terrorism. The cycle becomes endless: each act of killing, whether by state or insurgent, justifies the next. Chomsky’s words, therefore, are not only moral but practical. He teaches that to end terrorism, one must end the killing of innocents—not multiply it under a different name.

The lesson for us, O listener, is clear and eternal: guard the lives of the innocent above all else. Do not let yourself be deceived when leaders cloak destruction in fine words. Measure all actions by the same standard: would you call it terrorism if it were done to your own people? If so, it is terrorism still, even if done in your name. Hold your rulers accountable; speak for those who cannot defend themselves. Injustice done to others will one day return to your own door.

Therefore, carry Chomsky’s words as a shield against deceit. Remember that innocent blood is sacred, and its shedding is the true mark of terror. To honor this truth is to resist the lies of power, to stand for justice even when it is costly, and to labor for peace with both courage and compassion. For the world will not heal by the multiplication of bombs, but by the defense of the innocent, the restraint of the strong, and the recognition that every life bears equal worth before heaven and history.