Official U.S. Definition of Terrorism

The Official U.S. Definition of Terrorism describes terrorism by what violence is intended to do, not by who carries it out. In Noam Chomsky’s account, that makes it a useful standard for recognizing the 2001 attacks on the United States as terrorism while also exposing a political double standard: the same criteria, applied consistently, would bring state violence and the violence of allied governments under scrutiny. The definition’s importance lies in this tension between a literal rule and the propagandistic uses of the word it is meant to clarify.

Definition and Scope

Chomsky quotes the official formulation as “The calculated use of violence or threat of violence to attain goals that are political, religious, or ideological in nature. These actions may be carried out through intimidation, coercion, or by instilling fear.” Its elements are means—violence or threatened violence—and an intended political, religious, or ideological end. The definition, he argues, is appropriate precisely because it does not restrict terrorism to non-state groups or to enemies of the United States.

He applies that test directly to the attacks on the United States, calling them an unequivocal and terrible terrorist crime. In his telling, there was little genuine disagreement worldwide that the attacks met the definition. Naming them as terrorism, however, does not settle the broader question of how the term is used: the same literal standard can be acknowledged in one case and abandoned when the alleged perpetrators are powerful states or their allies.

The Political Uses of the Term

Chomsky distinguishes the definition’s literal meaning from a conventional propaganda meaning. In that second usage, “terrorism” denotes violence committed by enemies against the speaker or its allies; condemnation then appears universal, because each side condemns its opponents while exempting its own actions. He points to Nazi authorities’ condemnation of terrorism and their labeling of operations against partisan forces as counterterrorist. He also recalls U.S. counterterrorism operations in Greece and elsewhere in the years after the Second World War.

The distinction is not merely verbal. Chomsky says U.S. counterinsurgency programs drew explicitly on a Nazi model treated with deference: Wehrmacht officers were consulted, and their manuals were used in designing postwar programs for use around the world. These plans were called counterterrorism. That history, in his argument, shows how the label can reverse the apparent moral roles of similar actors and actions: one force is condemned as terrorist, while a state’s own campaign against it is framed as counterterrorism.

He also challenges the familiar claim that terrorism is simply the weapon of the weak. The United States officially conducts what it calls low-intensity warfare, a doctrine whose usual definitions, he argues, closely resemble the official definition of terrorism: coercive means directed against civilian populations to pursue political, religious, or other aims. He cites the World Trade Center attack as an especially horrific instance of terrorism, but insists that the category cannot be confined to such an attack when state doctrines meet the same stated criteria. In this account, terrorism is not only an act attributed to an enemy; it can also be a component of state action.

Naming, Responsibility, and War

The definition sits within a wider argument about the language used for state violence. Chomsky contrasts the description of Iraq as a target of “smart bombings” and Kosovo as the object of “humanitarian intervention” with the reluctance to call such actions war. He notes that the United States initially used the word “crusade” after the September attacks, then changed its terminology after the word was recognized as a serious obstacle to seeking support in the Islamic world. The label shifted; the political problem of describing the violence remained.

For Chomsky, calling the campaign a “war on terrorism” is propaganda unless it actually targets terrorism according to the stated definition. He argues that Western powers could not apply their own official standards consistently without exposing their own conduct, and that of their clients, to the charge of state terrorism. A vague term such as war avoids the more demanding task of identifying alleged crimes, establishing responsibility, and bringing perpetrators to account. That path would require tangible evidence and could raise questions about who committed international terrorist crimes condemned by the International Court of Justice fifteen years earlier.

This is why the definition functions in the book as more than a descriptive rule. It is a test of whether political language permits the same standard to govern allies and adversaries. Chomsky invokes the conventional distinction between great-power force, usually described as coercive diplomacy rather than terrorism, and similar tactics used by less powerful actors. Under a literal reading, he argues, the distinction turns on the identity and status of the actor, not on the violence or its purpose.

Shifting Labels and Consequences

The Kosovo Liberation Army provides Chomsky’s clearest example of labels changing with policy. U.S. authorities officially condemned the group as terrorists in 1998, citing its attacks on Serbian police and civilians and its stated aim of provoking a disproportionate Serbian response. Until January 1999, British officials described by Chomsky as NATO hawks considered the group responsible for more deaths than Serbia. He says Western documentation showed no tangible change on the ground before the Kosovo verification mission withdrew and bombing began in late March 1999; what changed, in his account, was policy. After the United States and the United Kingdom decided to attack Serbia, the group’s members became “freedom fighters.” After the war, they and their allies were again called terrorists, rogues, and criminals as they carried out similar actions in Macedonia, a U.S. ally.

Chomsky connects this flexibility in naming to the consequences of the September attacks. He argues that governments around the world used them to introduce or intensify repressive policies. Russia joined the counterterrorism coalition in hopes of gaining latitude for its campaign in Chechnya, and, he says, was not disappointed; China also joined for comparable reasons. Turkey offered troops for the new phase of the U.S. war on terror, with its prime minister presenting the offer as recognition of U.S. support for Turkey’s campaign against its Kurdish population. Chomsky describes that campaign as having relied substantially on U.S. arms and support, while the country was then accepted as a partner in protecting Kabul from terrorism.

He further argues that the post-attack climate of fear and appeals to patriotism helped governments discipline their own populations and enact unpopular measures. In the United States, the Bush administration used the opportunity to advance policies harmful to much of the population, including future generations, in the interests of large corporations. At the international level, Chomsky links the new phase of the war on terror to the consolidation of U.S. military dominance. The establishment of major U.S. bases in Central Asia, he says, improved the capacity for intervention around substantial regional resources and helped extend the strategic position surrounding the Gulf. He also interprets the Afghanistan bombings as a demonstration of U.S. capacity and a warning to states that might reject its terms, drawing a comparison with the stated aim of establishing NATO’s credibility during the bombing of Serbia.

A Standard Against Selective Judgment

The definition’s critical force depends on applying it without changing its meaning to suit the actor. Chomsky’s position is not that violence by adversaries ceases to be terrorism when political context changes: he condemns the September attacks under the official definition. Rather, he insists that condemnation must extend to all actions meeting the same standard, including state violence and violence by allies. In this framework, calling one actor a terrorist and another a counterterrorist does not establish a meaningful distinction unless their actions are assessed by consistent criteria.

The rule therefore exposes a recurring gap between stated principle and political practice. Official language can identify violence in precise terms, but labels such as counterterrorism, low-intensity warfare, humanitarian intervention, and war can obscure who uses force, against whom, and for what purpose. Chomsky’s conclusion is that the question is not whether terrorism should be condemned, but whether the definition will be applied literally—or reserved for enemies while powerful states retain the authority to name their own violence otherwise.