"Why do they do it?" asked the apparently shocked female during my lecture on suicide bombers. I paused, looked deeply into her blue eyes seeking for the hidden meaning behind her question. "What does she really want to know? Is she asking why terrorists choose suicide bombing over other methods of annihilation? Or why relatively youngsters are willing to throw their lives away? Does she want to know why they choose buses as an attractive target? Or why this method is so terrorizing? There were so many questions that could lead to so many different answers. Instead, I simply asked "Who was your role model when you were a kid?"

She looked at me with surprise, and as a good politician would, she answered cautiously, "I don't understand the question." As if she were afraid a wrong answer would lead to a failure on some test.

"Mine was Superman," I tried again. "I loved everything about the blue and red creature, including his skin tight spandex. My good fortune was that my parents lived in a ground level house, so every time I jumped out of my window, dressed in a cape and tights, I landed on the lawn only slightly bruised." When I saw her understanding expression, I asked again, "Who was your role model?"

"Ah, Wonder Woman," she answered. But of course.

I asked several others among the audience the same question and aggregated an impressive team of heroes, the common denominator was comical: all of the heroes were at some point in their glorious careers scripted in cartoons or comics.

"All of us wanted to be Superman or Spiderman, Catwoman or Mighty Mouse," I summarized. "Now, let's look at the heroes of those who don't have TVs or those who don't read comics." 

I showed a grotesque image of an undefined object dangling from a burnt-out bus frame. The debris around the bus, with human remains everywhere throughout, silently spoke of an awful story of suicidal terrorism.

“But why?” protested a woman in attendance, one of the local State government counter terrorism entities.

“While we are busy following our entertaining heroes, those who bring into our lives some color and joy – they choose their heroes based on the level of sacrifice those heroes are willing to give their people or the “higher cause” no matter how many innocents they’re taking with the them through the sacrifice.”

I explained the sick logic behind the creation of a whole generation of suicide terrorists. It was not an easy explanation. I mapped out for the lecture participants the child development in the Muslim fundamental world (I’m not sure that Adler, an entity in child development, would have been happy with me). Those kids are “programmed” from a very early age and totally affected by their culture, educational system (both formal and informal), from their spiritual and religious leaders, and from their society.

In interviews held with imprisoned terrorists who attempted to carry out suicidal missions, they admitted that what influenced them the most were their parents. No, parents never say, “There are too many lawyers in the market and since you’re not good with math it would be best for you to be a suicide bomber when you grow up.” But indirectly, while parents praised their neighbor’s son or daughter carrying out a suicide bombing and taking out a dozen of the enemy, or while paying great respect to the shahid—martyr’s parents, the kid understands that these suicide terrorists are heroes.

I wonder if we can blame kids who are being thrown into this reality. From infancy they play suicide games (suicide bomber is the preferred costume for Halloween). As juveniles they already express a wish to be shahids, and as teenagers they join suicidal missions. Those missions are not necessarily strapping themselves with explosives and blowing themselves up – assaulting an armed soldier with a knife is considered a suicide mission.

That lecture brought me back to the heroes of our childhood. My heroes were Yoni Netanyahu, the legendary commander of Israel’s elite force, who died while rescuing the hostages in Entebbe, Uganda in 1976. This heroic mission inspired thousands worldwide.

What happened to make Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles take the place of real heroes? Why is Batman more popular and admired than Samuel Adams?

What makes good heroes? If I were to address this question to one of the producers in Hollywood, I’d know what the template would be: tough good looking man (with the exception of Samuel L. Jackson), who always goes against the current and the rules. He’s stubborn and knows something better than anyone else. “Anyone” usually represents the organization, agency, or entity this hero belongs to. Whatever he does would always happen while manipulating and breaking the rules. In the end (the happy end), everybody sees how righteous the hero was and how his sacrifice was for the best.

That’s the recipe to create a hero. It started from the Dirty Harry days, through Rambo, Die Hard, all of Steven Segal movies (same movie, different names), and even in TV shows such as 24 and Sleeper Cell. The common denominator is the same – a rotten bureaucratic entity no one knows what to do about or how, except for the single hero who saves the day (Mighty Mouse).

Do we all now wonder why everyone tries to prototype the outsider heroes who manipulate the rules? Wouldn’t it be easier to update the rules and let everyone be heroes?

Tomer Benito