The architecture of international counterterrorism law is the subject of Chapter 2. It is a branch of public international law that has emerged from an evolving special legal regime to regulate action to prevent and punish terrorism and to tackle terrorists. International counterterrorism law is a matrix of global terrorism treaties and dedicated United Nations Security Council resolutions that require the incorporation of offences into domestic law combined with the salient rules of international humanitarian law and the law of law enforcement. These rules, which regulate when and against whom force may be used in counterterrorism, are supplemented by (though are sometimes inconsistent with) the content of regional treaties and domestic legislation. The standards and laws are subject to the constraints and oversight of international human rights law. The chapter also describes the content and adherence of regional counterterrorism treaties.

Chapter 3 covers national criminal law on terrorism worldwide. A total of 188 States (of the total of 197 recognized by the Secretary-General of the United Nations in his capacity as treaty depositary) have domestic legislation in place specifically criminalizing acts of terrorism. Despite certain commonalities, the definitions of these crimes are unique to each individual State. At the time of writing, only one State, Micronesia, had no dedicated legislative provisions on terrorism of any form in its domestic law. A further seven States – the Republic of Congo, Dominica, Eritrea, Kuwait, Sierra Leone, Suriname, and Yemen – repress the financing of terrorism with criminal sanction but do not also establish the perpetration of an act of terrorism as a distinct criminal offence.

This chapter gives an overview of the long history, nature and significance of terrorism for international relations. It first addresses the topic’s recent prominence. Terrorism is by no means the most brutal type of violence, especially compared to wars in which states have killed millions of people. But it garners outsized attention through its symbolic nature. Only by educating ourselves can we rob terrorism of the source of its power. Second, it addresses key academic debates, which usually go back to the definition. The chapter argues that there are core areas of international agreement about what a terrorist act is, and that it can and should be distinguished from other types of violence. It also explains the lively debate over digital technology and the future of terrorism. Third, it lays out intellectual frameworks that help us to understand and analyse terrorism, including types of terrorism, historical patterns and the strategies used by terrorist groups. The chapter concludes with reflections about what is at stake in countering this type of illegitimate act.

This chapter is about forensic psychiatric assessment of terrorism cases. As will become clear, this may not be a straightforward exercise in that it can be difficult to decide whether the case actually involves terrorism, let alone what contribution mental disorder may or may not make. Nonetheless, psychiatric assessment is often requested and assessment of the terrorism offender relies on the same basic principles of good-quality assessment, utilising a multi-agency approach, that is applicable when assessing any complex criminal, or potentially criminal, behaviour involving mental disorder.

Norwegian terrorist Anders Breivik was reported to have been excluded throughout his life, much like German extremist Fabian D. In many cases of terrorism like these, social exclusion is found in the life course of terrorists. This chapter therefore explores the relationship between exclusion and terrorism in greater depth. First, central concepts are defined and explained. The chapter then focuses on theoretical and, in particular, empirical findings on the exclusion–terrorism link. According to these findings, there is a causal relationship between exclusion and a terrorist mindset. However, the link between exclusion and terrorism is probably not direct and instead works indirectly, through processes such as deprived needs and higher social susceptibility. Ultimately, exclusion is likely to act as an early cognitive opener for terrorism via its individual- and group-level consequences. A corresponding exclusion–terrorism model is postulated. The chapter concludes with directions for future research and practical implications regarding the exclusion–terrorism link.

As 2001 opened, security and defence issues were already more central to Australia’s national agenda, both domestically and internationally, than had typically been the case over the previous three decades. Only a few weeks before the start of 2001, on 6 December 2000, Prime Minister John Howard had tabled in Parliament a new Defence White Paper. Defence 2000: Our Future Defence Force committed his government to a new and more expansive conception of Australia’s strategic interests and military objectives and to substantial and sustained increases in defence funding. These decisions were in part a prudent policy response to long-term strategic and fiscal trends stretching back a decade or more. But the tone and style as well as the content of the White Paper clearly showed that, for Howard, security was also at the centre of the government’s political agenda at the start of what was certain to be a federal election year.

Asylum seekers, the war in Iraq, and the threat of terrorism dominated foreign policy in the first years of the twenty-first century not only in the political arena but also in the polls. Not since the 1980s and the debate about Asian immigrants had questions of immigration loomed so large; not since the Vietnam War had the deployment of Australian troops in a US-led invasion of a distant land proved so divisive; and never before had Australia had to grapple with the threat of international terrorism. Border protection and terrorism figured prominently in the run-up to the 2001 election; security issues and, to a lesser extent, the war in Iraq were factors in the election held in 2004.

As Australian prime minister from 1996 to 2007, John Howard faced 11 tumultuous years of foreign, defence and domestic security policy challenges. As a political leader interested primarily in domestic economic issues, he faced a steep and sometimes rocky learning curve. Not surprisingly, his foreign policy legacy was mixed: partly durable and desirable, partly dubious and potentially damaging to Australia’s longterm interests. In this legacy, he is little different from his predecessors. Howard strengthened ties with the United States, adroitly avoided tensions with China, and gradually repaired relations with important Southeast Asian neighbours, including Indonesia, after periods of strain. He was also defined by his willingness to dispatch troops to foreign trouble spots, to enact far-reaching anti-terrorism legislation at home, and to substantially expand military spending on advanced new weaponry. Yet Howard largely quarantined international trade and economic interests from controversy – at least until the Australian Wheat Board Iraq bribery scandal exposed Australia’s trade policy duplicity late in the life of his government.

On Tuesday 18 March 2003 the Prime Minister John Howard moved a motion in the House of Representatives, in order to advance the government’s claim that Iraq’s ‘possession and pursuit of weapons of mass destruction’ constituted ‘a real and unacceptable threat to international peace and security’, that Australia’s commitment of military forces to the Gulf with the intention of disarming Iraq of weapons of mass destruction as a response to this threat was justified, and that this action was legitimised by successive UN Security Council resolutions, most notably Resolution 1441. The Opposition response was to oppose the motion on the grounds that while the disarmament of Iraq was a desirable objective, unilateral means were to be rejected in favour of entrusting the task to the United Nations.

In a global context dominated by the ‘war on terror’, and a domestic context of unprecedented governmental power, Australia’s traditional concern for human rights diminished in the period under review. The contradictions within Australian human rights policy, and the mix of positive and negative developments noted in the preceding volume, gave way to an unambiguous reality in which Australia’s respect for human rights was generally at a discount, both domestically and internationally. New schisms in public opinion were also created. Although the government and its supporters clearly regarded the loss of civic freedoms as primarily the product of the new environment of terror and the necessary price of enhanced national security, critics argued that the government’s human rights record before September 2001 had already been so mixed that the war on terror had merely exacerbated an already deteriorating situation.

This chapter outlines the effective remobilisation and arming of elements of the Monaghan Ulster Volunteer Force in 1920 and refutes claims of a loyalist “collapse” by providing evidence of loyalist paramilitary activities after a wave of republican counter-reprisals in late March 1921. It contends that a number of IRA operations in the area of County Monaghan bordering Rosslea went badly wrong, and that a successful, well-organised loyalist defence helped to bring both sides to agree a formal truce in April 1921. Loyalist resistance continued elsewhere in Monaghan until the national truce of July 1921, putting the IRA under considerable pressure in parts of the county. It also argues that ties between Ulster loyalists in Belfast and those in Monaghan persisted, helping the latter to resist boycotting of their business interests, and shoring up their political position through the Protestant Defence Association in the new Free State.

This chapter sets out why a history of Ulster loyalism in the three counties after partition matters and outlines the literature on ethnic conflict, Ulster loyalism, and terrorism and political violence in Ireland. The chapter then sets out the book’s two main arguments. First, memories of the violence experienced by one generation of Protestants in the three counties entrenched a sense of separation from the new Irish state on the part of subsequent generations. Intergenerational grievance and inter-communal distance kept loyalism alive and set the conditions for militancy and revenge in the future, including during the Troubles. Three-county loyalists played an important role in Ulster loyalist militant movements in Northern Ireland after partition.

This chapter considers the presence and efficacy of loyalist armed resistance in Cavan from 1920 to 1923. It argues that resistance was generally less intense and more poorly organised in Cavan compared to Monaghan. A dispersed population meant that loyalist deterrence was primarily focused on pockets of the county that had sufficient numbers to contest republican control. The IRA in the area near Cavan town, where much of the Protestant population was concentrated, was more reluctant to carry out executions or inflict significant violence than in County Monaghan. This made resistance to arms raids less dangerous and successful relative to elsewhere in the county. Nevertheless, a poorly organised loyalist defence network in the Rathkenny area underlined the dangers of provoking republican violence through overt and ineffective resistance. West Cavan resembled shared similar experiences of IRA violence to that seen in neighbouring County Leitrim. A willingness by the IRA in West Cavan and Leitrim to resort to occasionally shocking acts of violence meant that the loyalist community in this area suffered disproportionately from acts of intimidation compared to east and south Cavan.

This chapter examines the phenomenon of three-county loyalists’ considerable impact on Northern Ireland’s security forces and radical or militant Ulster movements since partition. It describes how these individuals generally came from families that were threatened with, or experienced, republican or agrarian violence after partition. The chapter also explores the important roles played by three-county loyalists in paramilitary organisations such as the Ulster Defence Association during the Troubles. A number of these individuals came from areas that had seen high levels of loyalist militancy in the first half of the century, suggesting an intergenerational consistency across the twentieth century.

This chapter underlines the main contribution of the book. It argues that Ulster loyalism has survived within the Irish state to the present day. The ’affective bonds’ or culture created in previous generations persisted. Three counties’ loyalists were still willing to embrace an Ulster identity even after the partition of the province. What mattered more than political logic or calculation was sentiment. It also observes an enduring strain of frontier militancy in Ulster, summarises the tactical successes of three counties’ loyalists and their wider movements in the 1920s and again in 1970s but concludes that militancy in successive conflicts only served to delay conciliatory reforms, truces and peace agreements.

This chapter considers evidence of loyalist paramilitary activities and resistance in County Donegal in the early 1920s. It investigates why a vibrant UVF movement, active in the county from 1912 to 1914, did not mount a sustained resistance to the IRA in the county from 1920 to 1923. It suggests that low levels of republican violence in the county during the Anglo-Irish War required a more limited response and goes on to demonstrate that Donegal’s loyalists prioritised the defence of Londonderry during a critical period in 1920. Unlike Monaghan, a number of Donegal’s outstanding UVF leaders were killed during the First World War or did not return home. There is also some evidence that erstwhile units of the Donegal UVF quickly and collectively allied themselves with pro-treaty forces during the Civil War (26 June 1922–24 May 1923). The exception was Pettigo, where loyalists targeted republicans in the wake of the British occupation of the village over a seven-month period, during which time they also campaigned to be included in the new Northern Ireland.

This chapter examines the resurgence of suspicions among republicans towards real or imagined loyalists in the three counties, that some Protestants were acting as a loyalist ’fifth column’ for the security forces and/or paramilitaries in Northern Ireland. A successful loyalist cross-border paramilitary campaign in the early 1970s precipitated an IRA counter-intelligence operation to eliminate spies in the three counties. Families that were well known locally for their historical involvement in loyalism were again targeted by the IRA in the 1970s. The chapter outlines the suspicions and inter-communal violence in County Monaghan that led to the murder of Senator Billy Fox and the burning of the family home of his fiancée, Marjorie Coulson.

Civil unrest or terrorism at mass gathering events can erupt with significant violence and multiple casualties. These are high-risk situations, not only because of physical casualties, but also because of ethical, political and psychological sequelae. Beyond specialized planning, multi-agency drills and proficient tactical medicine training, medical teams should co-create secured access and egress, alternative medical responses and rapidly-adapting coordination and secure communications with other agencies. Civil protests can escalate, especially when extremist groups infiltrate them. Multi-site violence and assaults can evolve, particularly in terroristic attacks. Key lessons include unrelenting vigilance until all participants have left the mass gathering scene in its entirety. Violence (bombs, shootings, vehicle attacks) will often erupt when mass gatherings are dispersing and considered over. Terrorists can also purposely target medical personnel or incite one event (fire, bomb, shooting) to create crushing stampedes or to herd crowds into more vulnerable areas where they can be further attacked more directly with other modern weapons. Terrorists often attack from elevated perches or generate “protracted suicide” incidents while holding hostages, including many severely-wounded. The resulting frustration, anger and guilt commonly can consume medical rescuers when beholding slaughtered innocents or simply because they were (appropriately) staged during containment of on-going violence.