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Can terrorists like Dzhokar Tsarnaev feel remorse?

CBC's Paul Hunter takes a closer look at the two brothers who bombed the Boston Marathon
CBC's Paul Hunter takes a closer look at the two brothers who bombed the Boston Marathon

“The evil men do lives after them, the good is interred with their bones.”

Judge George O’Toole, who presided over the Boston Marathon bombing trial that ended weeks ago, quoted this line from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar to open his address to defendant Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. It was fitting for the occasion. The court had listened to days of incongruent testimony about the 21-year-old, who admitted to setting off a homemade bomb at the marathon’s finish line in 2013, along with his late brother Tamerlan. For the bombing and subsequent violence, Tsarnaev was given the death penalty.

Undoubtedly, the younger Tsarnaev will not be remembered for any of the positive traits attributed to him by defense witnesses in those last few days of the trial. He won’t be the emigre from Kyrgyzstan, via Russia, who arrived in the U.S. and caught up with, then surpassed, his classmates, after first learning their language. As O’Toole also said to Tsarnaev, “No one will remember that your teachers were fond of you. No one will mention that your friends found you funny and fun to be with. No one will say you were a talented athlete or that you displayed compassion in being a Best Buddy or that you showed more respect to your women friends than your male peers did.” And nor will anyone care that, as a teenager, Tsarnaev boosted a friend’s self-confidence by encouraging her to go to art school. 

But there is a possibility that history will remember the surprising apology the defendant made the day of his sentencing. Speaking publicly for the first time, he stated: “I would like to now apologize to victims and survivors. Immediately after the bombing that I am guilty of, I learned of some of the victims, their names, their faces, their ages. If there is any lingering doubt, I did it, along with my brother. I am sorry for the lives I have taken, for the suffering I have caused, and for the terrible damage I have done.”

Sister Helen Prejean, a 76-year-old nun and known anti-capital punishment crusader, had also spoken of Tsarnaev’s sense of remorse, describing conversations she’s had with Tsarnaev since he was arrested in her testimony for the defense. According to Prejean, "He said it emphatically. He said no one deserves to suffer like they did.”

This turn at the end of Tsarnaev’s trial immediately stirred debate in Boston and elsewhere about whether the young man was being sincere, or if he had other motivations, and whether it mattered either way. And that conversation is likely to continue now that his lawyers have filed a preliminary motion for a second trial.

His apparent regret also had many wondering whether terrorists anywhere in the world are capable of feeling guilty for their acts. In the last few weeks alone, reports of ritual ISIS beheadings, a decapitation in France, massacres at beach resorts in Tunisia, and the bombing of a mosque in Kuwait, make it tempting to believe that the men and women who commit such attacks are suffering from psychological illnesses—that they are psychopaths, completely unable to feel empathy for others.

Why do they do it? My response is always the same: I don't really know. Even the terrorists themselves don't really know.

—John Horgan, professor, Center for Terrorism and Security Studies

But the truth is that not all murderers are psychopaths (far from it), according to experts. And the same goes for terrorists. Although the myriad reasons some formerly non-violent people choose to join an extremist armed group are complex and not fully understood, researchers do know that perpetrators of heinous crimes are not at all unfeeling.

In Iraq, a new reality TV show drives home the point by featuring former members of ISIS who are introduced to the families of those they’ve killed. In one clip posted online, a young convicted car bomber weeps as he’s introduced to a man who lost his father in the attack.

Although it’s not the side of terrorism that’s often portrayed in Western media, the man’s response is not surprising to Sarah Teich, a graduate student at the University of Toronto's Munk School of Global Affairs whose research focuses on counterterrorism and homeland security studies.

She says there’s no greater incidence of psychopathology among terrorists than in the general population. “In reality, there is no profile of a terrorist, it just doesn’t exist. Of course, there are some psychopathic terrorists, but most aren’t.”

According to Teich, studies show that only lone wolf operators are more likely to have a antisocial tendencies. Anders Breivik, the Norwegian far-right killer of 77 people, for example, is said to exhibit traits of the classic pathological personality: “emotional coldness and the inability to enter into relationships,” a psychologist told Der Spiegel.  

If anything, terrorists who work in small cells or larger groups often have to work hard to suppress feelings of empathy, Teich suggests. “It takes a lot of moral disengagement. Humans are hard-wired to feel empathy, so people who carry out these acts have to disengage.

“It's not self-deception, it's more like they are ignoring information that may make them feel empathetic,” she explains. “They have to come to see their victims as collateral damage as opposed to people.”

Why a certain type of person might come to feel regret after taking a life while another may not is still unknown. But one trait Teich guesses would lead to feelings of remorse is self-awareness, “People who are self-aware have a harder time disengaging in the first place. They are naturally more aware of themselves and others,” she explains, emphasizing that she has not seen any data on the topic.

The work of John Horgan, an Irish psychologist and professor based in the U.S.  and leading expert on the psychology of terrorism, shows that it’s not uncommon for people recruited to terror groups to feel regret about joining in the first place.

In his eye-opening essay, “Don’t Ask Why People Join the Islamic State—Ask How” published by Vice News last fall, Horgan writes:

I've researched terrorist psychology for the past 18 years. I've interviewed militants from Ireland, England, Lebanon, Indonesia, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and the United States. I've spoken to executioners and torturers, and last year I met my first failed suicide bomber — a brave young boy indoctrinated by the Pakistani Taliban who surrendered at the last minute. I've analyzed their statements, pored over court testimonies, and increasingly spent hours upon hours looking through their social media.

And when someone asks me, “Why do they do it?" my response is always the same: I don't really know. Even the terrorists themselves don't really know.

The scholar goes on to say that “yes, many terrorists feel guilt for what they do. But they may realize too late that they are trapped, forced to conceal their growing disillusionment for fear that their colleagues might suspect them of being a spy or infiltrator.” Unfortunately, that can lead some to become even more brutal to overcompensate for any suspicions.

One of Horgan’s ongoing research projects is dedicated to understanding after-the-fact responses from terrorists like Tsarnaev, and finding ways to use them in counterterrorism interventions.  The idea is to build “off-ramps” for those on the road to becoming a terrorist or wanting to leave an organization.

“We certainly need to do a far better job of showcasing accounts of repentant former terrorists who are in an ideal position to credibly undermine the allure of involvement in the first place,” he recently told Scientific American.

It may be one way that some good can live on even after an evil act. After all, no martyr to a cause has yet come back from “paradise” to say it’s all just tripe.