Abdul Aziz Said

is a professor of international relations at American University

Nathan C. Funk

is a visiting assistant professor at George Washington University

With each day that passes, the "war on terrorism" looks more and more like the "war on drugs." Both wars aim to eliminate clear and present dangers - and both keep missing their targets.

The war on drugs has been raging since 1971, when President Richard Nixon identified drug abuse as "public enemy number one in the United States." The United States currently spends more than $50 billion a year on the drug war, yet addiction and drug-related criminality remain disturbingly high. George W. Bush declared war on Sept. 20, 2001, against "every terrorist group of global reach." Tens of billions of dollars are now being spent each year to defend against politically motivated terrorism and to support foreign military campaigns. Nonetheless, there is very little evidence that this war against terrorists is reducing the incidence of terrorism.

The key problem with both these wars is that their makers are prosecuting them as if they were ordinary wars. Because terrorism and the drug trade show little respect for national boundaries, they are best understood as global public goods problems. So every state with a stake in the international system also has an interest in fighting drugs and terror.

American counterterrorism policies will be far more effective if we are willing to analyze the motivations of those who turn to violence. What we face today is neither a rash of random actions by malevolent freelancers like "Unabomber" Ted Kaczynski, nor an inevitable clash of civilizations. Rather, we face political violence perpetrated mostly by young men and women who believe that the world is conspiring against them because of who they are - be it Palestinian, Arab, Muslim or Tamil.

So instead of relying on emotionally satisfying but empty slogans, we must develop strategies for dealing with demoralizing and degrading situations that make violence attractive and profitable. This holds true for both terrorism and drugs. To be sure, hard-core repeat offenders like Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri must be brought to justice. But their followers may be willing to seek rehabilitation if offered a broader range of political options. U.S. policymakers must also:

Not assume that terrorism is based solely on cultural or ideological motivations. Quite often, revenge is more decisive in instigating violence than ideology is. The question might become: What are terrorists seeking revenge for?

Back our praise of nonviolence with deeds that give some incentive for it. It is easy to tell Palestinians or Iraqis to refrain from violence, but far better to develop policies that actually reward nonviolence. In the Middle East, for example, there is a grave need for a U.S. policy that helps break violent cycles of repression and resistance. Convincing autocratic Middle Eastern regimes to open genuine political space is one of the most important steps the United States can take in the war against terrorism.

Reaffirm their commitment to the proposition that Muslims have a right to shape their own futures: The United States rejects cultural and political imperialism. In the present case of Iraq, such a message would become convincing if American forces were to include Muqtada al Sadr in a renewed program of sustained dialogue with Iraqi tribal and religious leaders. This is not inconsistent with organizing commissions of inquiry into the deaths of Ayatollah Khoei and civilian contractors.

Like the drug trade, the terror business is driven by both supply and demand. Searching for suppliers to capture or destroy does little to change the existential situation of those who turn to violence. Sometimes war against suppliers actually increases demand for their goods. If we can combat despair and not just those who exploit it, however, we may yet be able to achieve a satisfactory resolution to the war on terror.