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In 1984, for instance, two members of an Oregon cult poisoned local salad bars with salmonella, infecting 750 people (none fatally) in an attempt to fix a local election.

In 1994, two members of the right-wing Minnesota Patriots Council were arrested for planning to smear ricin, a lethal poison drawn from the seeds of a common garden plant, on doorknobs.

Nevertheless, only one group -- the apocalyptic cult Aum Shinrikyo -- has succeeded in launching a large-scale chemical attack. After several failed attempts with sarin nerve gas and anthrax, cult members killed 12 and injured more than 5,000 in Tokyo by planting pouches of sarin gas on the subway.

Although some experts and government officials agree with "Nightline" that a major attack is coming -- Defense Secretary William Cohen famously declared that it was no longer a matter of "if," but "when" -- the greater threat from increased access to exotic weapons may be more attacks rather than bigger ones.

After all, terrorists only need to kill a few people -- violently and with no warning -- to wield the weapon of fear. Kill too many people, the logic goes, and governments will dig in their heels; the public will harden. As Col. Robert Leitch, a military medical consultant, explained, "You don't want to kill a lot, just one, and publicly, with lots and lots of pictures."

The strategic issues may be changing: A new class of terrorist has emerged in the last 10 years, drawing inspiration from religious or extremist subcultures without the political agenda of, say, the Irish Republican Army or Hezbollah.

Frank Ciluffo, a fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, says this new class of terrorist is especially dangerous, because it has no interest in a sympathetic public. "Historically, terrorism has been a tactic to get to the negotiating table. Today, on the other hand, you've got a number of groups who don't want to get to that table, they want to blow up that table ... They're not concerned with popular support."

Nevertheless, if you assume that only groups fitting a relatively narrow profile would attempt an attack on the scale that "Biowar" depicted, then the world is much less threatening than if you assume any malcontent with a chemistry kit is a potential Dr. Apocalypse.

Analysts remain anxious about Aum Shinrikyo, which combines significant resources ($300 million to $1 billion, by some estimates) with technical expertise and a sufficiently skewed worldview. Bin Laden also shows a similar mix of religious extremism and deep pockets.

But with the number of major threats reduced to a handful, sound intelligence can do much to prevent a calamity. Technical challenges further limit the pool of potential mass terrorists further. Despite money and expertise, for instance, Aum Shinrikyo failed in several attempts to find a way to disperse its nerve gas widely enough to kill thousands. In the end, it was only able to kill 12 people -- tragic, to be sure, but a far cry from 50,000.

If the threat is limited, the defense measures aren't. Every year, Americans spend $100 billion on personal security -- an industry that employs some 2 million people -- and counterterrorism has been claiming a growing piece of that pie. The number of agents at the FBI devoted to counterterrorism has grown from 550 in 1993 to 1,383 this year. The White House has committed $11.4 billion over the next 10 years to upgrade security at U.S. embassies around the world. And in January, President Clinton pledged $10 billion to fight terrorism in 2000.

But there are limits to what prevention can accomplish. Like car thieves, terrorists go for easy targets. As Washington takes steps to secure embassies, military bases, airports and government buildings, terrorists will still be left with a long list of targets to choose from -- town centers, tourist attractions, commercial areas and public transport. "No terrorist bomb will remain unexploded for want of a target," Jenkins remarked. If everyone is a suspect and everyone is a target, law enforcement cannot possibly prevent every incident.

Still, the most immediate challenge facing Washington may be neither a biowar nor a proliferation of attacks, but its own counterterrorism bureaucracy. As of 1997, 40 different government agencies were in the business of fighting terrorists. At the recent terrorism conference, I encountered military officers, independent analysts, police officers, accountants, at least one spy, a man who (among other, more relevant credentials) invented a robot howitzer, a student from my alma mater, contractors, doctors, a patent lawyer and a busload of firemen.

Committing $10 billion was easy. Deciding who gets it is another matter altogether. Maybe we should call it Bureauwar.
salon.com | Nov. 1, 1999

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