Let us compare two events: the Turkish flotilla that challenged the Gaza blockade and the suicide bombing that killed tourists in a Marrakesh café. The Turkish flotilla’s passage in May of last year had been scripted with a clear sense of drama. It resembled an epic, announced ahead of time. Aboard the ships were personalities from various countries, granting generously advertised interviews before, during and after the event. The advancement of the ships was amply covered and reporting further intensified when the ‘Freedom Flotilla’ closed in on the Gaza shoreline. The reporters from two TV channels (Al Jazeera and a Turkish station) had boarded the flagship, the “Mavi Marmara,” the Blue Marmara.
With these actions, journalists had turned this ship into a floating television studio, building a sense of suspense. The situation was carefully scripted, except for its outcome of course. However, in a way, the nature of the outcome did not matter. Either the Israelis would allow the flotilla to successfully challenge the Gaza blockade, which would show a sign of weakness, a defeat, a form of surrendering, or the Israelis would intervene to stop the flotilla. In that case, cameras were at hand to record violent actions: Israeli commandos attacking civilians, soldiers attacking “pacifists,” even if the latter are using weapons. Like in all reality shows, the narrative was built around a confrontation that took place on a small stage surrounded by cameras. The event was constructed as emblematic and endowed with a sustained visibility.
Let us now look at the explosion in the Argana café in Marrakesh, Morocca last month. The bombing occurred without warning. This suddenness is strategically understandable since an advance warning would have undermined its success. However, because it went unannounced, its impact has been enormously diminished. Of course, the number of victims in Marrakesh was much higher. If human lives count, the bombing at the popular Moroccan café should be considered a much more serious event than the odyssey of the Turkish flotilla. Yet, the victims, among them quite a few visiting foreigners, have stayed anonymous. The bombers are unknown and no camera was present to record the explosion while it happened. The photos in the next day’s newspapers showed only the aftermath of the explosion: destroyed walls, bloodstained shoes, overturned chairs and hospital beds. A carefully crafted dramaturgy is absent. The attention for the Marrakesh bombing was essentially quantitative. Seventeen people were killed. Twenty-five were wounded.
Put this in perspective with another bombing in Pakistan. On May 13, at least 80 people were killed and more than 150 were injured in a suicide bombing in Pakistan. Does this mean that this event was more important than the Marrakesh event? Does a scale on which to rate importance exist? In fact, it does. Human lives have become a media currency. This currency is heavily depreciated. There are simply too many dead people. There is too little attention.
In terms of expressing hatred, a suicide bombing is quite efficient. In terms of justifying this hatred, it represents a waste. In contrast to the masterfully run Mavi Marmara event, bombings feel amateurish. Of course, the Mavi Marmara is a big production. It delivers stars, a cast of hundreds, two major TV channels and the backing of one government. Bombings are rather do-it-yourself projects. The difference in style between both bombings and the Mavi Marmara epic is nevertheless stunning. While all are political events and all are meant to attract attention, only one provided a dramatic composition. As the perfect attention-trap, the flotilla was geared towards denunciation (of some), justification (of others). In the other two cases, there was just bare violence and poor dramaturgy. Perhaps the dramaturgy of the poor?
I have always doubted the argument that suicide bombing is the ultimate weapon of the weak. I found it morally reprehensible and practically wrong. Non violent resistance was more effective in the civil rights movement. The democratic movement, which was pragmatically pacifist, in Poland and throughout the former Soviet bloc, was not only effective in opposition, but also as a starting point for real democratic constitution. I call this “weapon,” “the politics of small things.” Dayan demonstrates why creative the politics of small things can be a more effective source of power. He once told me that while I was a student of the politics of small things, he is a student of the politics of very small things. Here he shows what he meant.