Review Article

Terrorism and Weapons of Mass Destruction:

The Case of Aum Shinrikyo

ANGUS M. MUIR
Department of International Relations
St. Andrews University
Fife, Scotland, UK

David E. Kaplan and Andrew Marshall, The Cult at the End of the World: The
Incredible Story of Aum (London: Hutchinson, 1996), 310 pages.
D. W. Brackett, Holy Terror: Armageddon in Tokyo (New York: Weatherhill,
1996), 206 pages.
James K. Campbell, Weapons of Mass Destruction Terrorism (Seminole, FL:
Interpact Press, 1997), 166 pages.

In March 1995 the Japanese doomsday cult Aum Shinrikyo conducted a

well-timed and coordinated nerve gas attack on the Tokyo subway system.
This represented the first use of such a weapon by a nonstate group and sent
shock waves around the world. The shock came not least because the attack
had been completely unexpected despite years of theorizing and literature
discussing just such a possibility. The purpose of this article is to address the
broad issue of terrorist use of weapons of mass destruction as it applies to
Aum Shinrikyo, and within this context to critically analyze the three books
listed above. Each offers a different look at Aum in terms of the group itself
and of what lessons might be drawn from this new and frightening develop-
ment in “terrorist” violence.

There has been much discussion and literature in recent years concerning the
threat of terrorist organizations employing weapons of mass destruction (WMD). 1
For a variety of reasons that will be outlined below, this threat has been thought
most likely from terrorist organizations that are religious in nature. Indeed, litera-
ture suggesting that the first groups to employ a weapon of mass destruction
would be religious sects with a millenarian, messianic, or apocalyptic mindset
has existed for over twenty years.2 These predictions became a reality on March

Received 26 May 1998; accepted 8 June 1998.

Address correspondence to Angus M. Muir, Department of International Relations,
University of St. Andrews, St. Andrews, Fife, Scotland, KY16 9AL, UK.

79
Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 22:79–91, 1999
Copyright © 1999 Taylor & Francis
1057-610X/99 $12.00 + .00
80 Review Article

20, 1995, when the Japanese doomsday cult Aum Shinrikyo launched a nerve gas
attack on the Tokyo subway system. This was not the first time the group had
employed such weapons. Subsequent investigations revealed that the cult had
been experimenting with a variety of biological and chemical agents with varying
degrees of success since April 1990. This article will deal with the general issue
of nonstate terrorist use of WMD, with specific reference to the activities of
Aum Shinrikyo. Kaplan and Marshall’ s The Cult at the End of the World and
Brackett’ s Holy Terror concentrate specifically on Aum, and Campbell’ s Weap-
ons of Mass Destruction Terrorism deals with the broader issues of nonstate use
of WMD and examines Aum as one of four case studies employed to test his
hypotheses.
The idea of employing poison or disease to destroy a foe is as old as recorded
history itself. The use of poisons in the ancient world was not infrequent, and it
occasionally became part of religious tradition. The book of Exodus in the Old
Testament, for example, records the ten plagues visited upon the Egyptians by
God.3 Better documented examples include the large-scale use of poison by Jew-
ish Zealots (Sicarii) during the first Jewish revolt against Roman rule in Judea
and the use of diseased corpses as missiles in medieval siege warfare. It is only in
this century, however, that the full weight of science and technology has been
brought to bear on the military application of chemical and biological agents, and
more recently, “energy” weapons generated by fission and fusion. The most pro-
lific use of these weapons has, of course, as with other forms of terrorism, been
by nation-states. Both sides employed chemical weapons during the First World
War, and during the interwar period Italy used mustard gas in Ethiopia. During
the Second World War both sides developed large stockpiles of chemical and
biological weapons as deterrents, notably including the new array of nerve agents.
The only actual use of such weapons was by the Japanese in China, deployed by
the notorious Unit 721 for both combat and experimental purposes.4 The postwar
period saw the development of large stockpiles of all WMD. There were also
incidents of their use, most notably by Egypt in Yemen during the 1960s, by Iraq
during the Iran-Iraq War (1980–1988), and by the Iraqi regime against internal
opposition during the 1980s.
Until recently most informed opinion suggested that nonstate terrorist groups
of whatever motivation would neither seek to acquire nor threaten to use WMD.
A number of reasons have been advanced to support this belief. The primary
rationale is that terrorists seek an alteration of the existing sociopolitical order
through the use of “modulated” violence. The objective is not to kill large num-
bers of people but to gain maximum exposure to the cause. Terrorist behavior is
also assumed to be normative; if the terrorists’ level of violence exceeds a certain
threshold it may result in a loss of constituency and legitimacy, or even a con-
certed effort to eradicate them. Finally, it has been assumed that the level of
technology and the costs associated with the use of WMD are beyond the reach
of nonstate terrorist groups.5 Recent trends, however, have done something to
undermine these accepted beliefs. Much of the reasoning on the constraints on
WMD use by terrorists has been focused on traditional terrorist groups with a
 Review Article 81

political or nationalist separatist agenda such as those that predominated from the
late 1960s to the 1980s. Such groups have a constituency to appeal to as well as
internal and external audiences, and the support of these groups cannot be jeopar-
dized by the practice of mass-casualty “ultraviolence.” This reasoning has changed
as groups motivated by a religious imperative have become larger and more
numerous. Far more frequently than their secular counterparts, religious groups
display an extranormative, transcendental quality to their ideology and objectives
and thus their attitude toward violence.6
Recent terrorist actions suggest that there is some merit to the notion of
groups planning to kill or actually killing on a large scale. The reasons for this
are perhaps twofold. The first revolves around the religio-ideological notion in
which mass casualties are a desirable outcome favored by God. Religious groups
tend to have a Manichaean outlook that divides the world into “them” and “us.”
The list of potential targets is therefore large, and the elimination of large num-
bers of these targets, if practicable, is highly desirable.7 The second involves what
might be called the “escalation spiral,” the central argument of which is that more
violent actions are required by a terrorist group to retain the required degree of
attention from a media and public increasingly desensitized to violence. The
argument concerning escalation does look somewhat dubious, however, when
seen in the light of another “trend” in terrorist mass violence—silence following
an attack. Some of the more extreme acts of recent terrorist violence, including
the 1993 World Trade Center bombing and the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, to
name but two, were not followed by claims of responsibility by the perpetrators.
This escalation in the number of mass-casualty acts of terrorism does not
imply the use of WMD, however. As all three authors show, there are many very
real practical constraints affecting the development of viable chemical or biologi-
cal agents despite technological advances and the availability of information and
equipment. Moreover, it is not as though conventional explosives, still the most
favored weapon for a mass-casualty attack, have exhausted their utility. Conven-
tional explosives are much easier to acquire or produce and are capable of inflict-
ing severe casualties. The bomb that wrecked the Alfred P. Murrah building in
Oklahoma, for example, was constructed from ammonia-based fertilizer and fuel
oil and resulted in 168 deaths. While the fertilizer-based bomb used in the World
Trade Center resulted in fewer casualties, the number would have been substan-
tially higher had the building been toppled—the probable intention of the bomb-
ers.8 There is also the idea that possession of WMD affords a nonstate actor
greater prestige and bargaining power9 —but this line of thought is only theoreti-
cal thus far, as no group has yet tried this method of “bargaining.” If they did,
state incentives to locate and eradicate the group would be raised considerably.10
Aum Shinrikyo possessed all the characteristics of a group that might progress
to extranormative acts of violence. These included a charismatic leader asserting
divine authority, an apocalyptic vision, a fascination with violence, and collective
paranoia. 11 These are also needed for a group to consider the use of WMD, but
for this consideration to be translated into reality it is also necessary for a group
to possess ample finances, scientific know-how, and a remote base to conduct
82 Review Article

“experiments” away from prying eyes. Aum satisfied both sets of criteria. These
criteria, however, while useful guides, are simply broad categories of analysis
and allow a great deal of variation within them. Many groups exhibit some of
these characteristics, and this is the primary concern of policymakers who must
address this threat.
The primary problem highlighted by the case of Aum is the issue of control-
ling materials and know-how and of intelligence cooperation and law enforce-
ment. On an international level, agreements such as the 1997 Chemical Weapons
Convention (CWC) can assist in the destruction and the banning of production
of existing stockpiles as well as the identification of any potentially dangerous
chemicals used in civilian industry. So far the CWC faces the problems of not
being all-encompassing, of difficulty in deterring violations, and of constantly
changing technologies. 12 With regards to biological weapons the 1972 Bio-
logical Weapons Convention bans both the development and the possession of
biological weapons. Despite this, biological weapons technology is still being
acquired by states, which can only increase the potential for their use by nonstate
actors. In 1980, for instance, only one country, the former Soviet Union, was
named by the U.S. as a violator of the 1972 convention. In 1989 the U.S. Central
Intelligence Agency reported that at least ten countries were developing biologi-
cal weapons, and by 1995 the number had risen to seventeen. 13 The more coun-
tries that engage in such research and development, the greater the number of
opportunities for nonstate groups to acquire these weapons through force, theft,
or corruption.
Perhaps of greater concern is the availability on domestic open markets of
various materials and equipment. Procurement of raw materials and equipment
was a matter of relative ease for Aum. When Japanese police searched the Mount
Fuji compound they found large quantities of chemicals such as acetonitrile,
isopropyl alcohol, sodium fluoride, and sodium chloride, ingredients for sarin and
other poisons purchased openly.14 In Japan Aum purchased equipment such as an
infrared spectrophotometer, gas chromatography and mass spectroscopy machines,
all used for the examination of organic compounds and other chemicals used in
the production of nerve agents. A good example of the application of legally
obtained materials concerns tabun,15 probably the easiest nerve agent to make.16 It
is a two-stage process involving the chemicals dimethylamine, phosphoryl chlo-
ride, sodium cyanide, and ethyl alcohol. Details of this process are contained in
open literature. Precursors such as these can be purchased in most instances on
the open market, or they can be manufactured independently from more benign
chemicals to avoid suspicion. Dimethylamine, for example, can be made by mix-
ing methanol and ammonia.17 No special apparatus is needed beyond that found
in a basic chemistry laboratory, and production would not be a serious problem
for a competent chemist.
These examples represent a fraction of the equipment and raw materials le-
gally purchased by the cult that could be used in the production of chemical and
biological agents. Some of these items were already identified and monitored
because they are “dual-use” technologies and resources. Even when such a dual
 Review Article 83

use is identified it does not guarantee that the problem is solved. In 1992 Japan
published a list of twenty-two chemicals that officials claimed would be moni-
tored because of the risks they might pose in the “wrong hands,” but enforcement
was so lax as to be nonexistent; many of these chemicals were later found in
abundance in Aum compounds.18 Aum also attempted to obtain a variety of items
through its U.S. subsidiary (Aum USA), including industrial lasers, laser measur-
ing systems, and other equipment associated with the manufacture of nuclear
weapons, and molecular modeling software that can be used to synthesize a vari-
ety of nerve agents and toxins. Most of these sales failed because the dual-use
nature of these technologies requires a special export license. The link between
these orders and others made legally was not made by U.S. officials—if there is
such a monitoring system in place. Of perhaps even greater suspicion were other
orders for items such as serum bottles, gas masks, and a chemical used in air
filtration systems.
While the manufacture of chemical and biological agents is not beyond nonstate
group capabilities, to say that it is easy is too simplistic. Manufacture itself can
be seen at three different levels: the finance necessary for such an undertaking,
procurement of the actual raw materials, and the actual “making.” At the first
level, finance, Aum had very few concerns. It is estimated that the facility used to
manufacture nerve agents, Satian 7, cost about US$10 million to construct.19 The
membership of Aum, both lay and monastic, paid well for the opportunity for
enlightenment. Members paid exorbitant amounts for “training courses” and “re-
ligious items.” It is estimated that the PSI (Perfect Salvation Initiation) head-
gear20 alone netted the cult about $20 million.21 Aum established a number of
lucrative businesses such as noodle shops, estate agents, computer shops, and
pharmaceuticals. Some of these businesses and front companies also had a more
sinister purpose. Hasegawa Chemical, Tokyo, and Beck Inc., Yamanashi prefec-
ture, were established in 1993 in order to purchase the chemicals needed for
weapons production without implicating Aum.22 Aum’ s illegal activities were
also rewarding, in particular those of land fraud and the manufacture and sale of
illicit drugs.
Aum also possessed certain advantages with regard to the actual synthesis of
chemical and other agents. Aum’ s membership contained a variety of individuals
with scientific backgrounds, including genetic engineers, organic chemists, com-
puter specialists, and medical doctors. A secure and out-of-the-way location for
testing is also essential for any group attempting to gain a WMD capability from
scratch. The cult possessed a number of isolated, well-secured installations to
conduct operations, made all the more secure by the special religious status ac-
corded the group under Japanese law. Perhaps the strangest, and certainly the
most out of the way, was Banjawarn Station, a sprawling outback property in
Western Australia. Here the cult allegedly conducted a successful test of its sarin
and also intended to mine uranium ore. While it is claimed that access to the
basic recipe for a nerve, biological, or chemical agent is relatively simple, its
synthesis is not. Proof of this perhaps lies in the fact that Aum was never able to
produce sarin or any other agent on a large scale.
84 Review Article

One of the primary problems with the use of chemical and biological agents,
assuming they can be manufactured successfully, is their dispersal. Aum Shinrikyo
tried many different methods of nerve gas dispersal with varying degrees of
success and still did not come up with an easy-to-use, effective system. The most
effective method of dispersal for chemical and biological agents is in aerosol
form, and indeed, the cult experimented with this method in the attack on the
town of Matsumoto in June 1994. Even if effective dispersal can be achieved,
chemical and biological agents are vulnerable to relative humidity, sunlight, tem-
perature, smog, and wind conditions. These problems are minimized if they are
used in an enclosed environment such as a subway system or if they are intro-
duced into the ventilation system of a large building. Still, other obstacles remain
to the effective dissemination of such agents. In terms of the psychological
effects, most assessments of casualties assume that the weapon has been dissemi-
nated with maximum effectiveness. 23
The story of Aum Shinrikyo has been told through a variety of analytical,
narrative, and journalistic styles, and the three examined here are no exception.
The structure of the three books also says much about the personal history of
the authors and their intent in writing. The accounts by Bracket and by Kaplan
and Marshall maintain a more narrative style, telling the story of Aum Shinrikyo
in detail from before the genesis of the group until court trials following the
Tokyo attack. Their narratives are more or less divorced from a broader analyti-
cal structure of the type presented by Campbell. Their structure and writing re-
flects the journalistic training of all three. All three have at times written on
Japanese subjects in a journalistic capacity, and Brackett has also had some expe-
rience as an intelligence officer. Campbell, by contrast, does not possess an inti-
mate knowledge of the historical and cultural milieu from which Aum arose. The
story told by Kaplan and Marshall and by Brackett is that of the organization
alone, its origins, membership, history, and legacy. This concentration enables
these authors to explain in greater detail than Campbell the formation of Aum’ s
ideology as well as the wide variety of activities in which the cult was involved.
While there are certain general elements that are consistent within violent reli-
gious groups, ideological formation is extremely important with regard to the
application, mode, and degree of violence employed. The eclectic nature of Aum’ s
theology is well illustrated in both books, which identify the importance of East-
ern and Western apocalyptic thinking as well as the influence of the “secular
apocalyptic” in the form of Isaac Asimov’ s Foundation Series. Campbell’ s ap-
proach is far more social-scientific in nature, offering sections on existing theory
and methodology and two theoretical constructs with which to examine his pri-
mary hypothesis, which concerns whether nonstate, religiously oriented groups
are the most likely to employ WMD. While undoubtedly well researched, the
first two works suffer from an absence of attributions, and the bibliographies are
sparse. Campbell, on the other hand, presents a more scholarly analysis, complete
with an exhaustive list of sources, though the absence of an index is a handicap.
In contrast to the books by Marshall and Kaplan and by Brackett, Campbell
endeavors to provide exploratory frameworks regarding the nexus between WMD
 Review Article 85

and terrorism that possess “both explanatory and predictive qualities.”24 He out-
lines a two-pronged theoretical structure and uses this to examine four case stud-
ies, the first of which is that of Aum Shinrikyo.25 The social-scientific approach
does have a number of drawbacks, however. Campbell assigns values to certain
variables concerning the groups examined for his two models, the “structural
realist” and the “synthetic theory.” These values range from 0 to 1.0 and are
assigned to a variety of variables that are then multiplied together to determine
the risk of WMD use posed by a particular group. The higher the value, the more
likely the group is to employ WMD. The values are puzzling, however, and
appear to be chosen at random, and occasionally what scientific insight they offer
is marred by serious typographical mistakes.26
Campbell’ s four case studies comprise an eclectic and unusual group. After
the theoretical scene has been established, chapter 4 deals with the “apocalyptic
millennial group” Aum Shinrikyo. Chapter 5, the example of a “religious re-
demptive group,” explores the Jihad organization and the 1993 World Trade
Center bombing, which is included because the device used allegedly incorpo-
rated a quantity of cyanide. This assertion is supposedly verified through “press
accounts of court proceedings documenting the sentencing of the defendants.”27
As Campbell notes, “Whether or not cyanide was truly present, the fireball from
the . . . device would have consumed this deadly chemical instead of dispersing
it.”28 Reports do indicate that about 500 grams of cyanide were found in a locker
used by the group to store bomb-making materials, and later a letter found on
Ramzi Yousef (regarded as the brains behind the operation) claimed the ability to
use chemicals and poison gas. Information regarding the alleged use of cyanide is
sparse at best. Campbell’ s assertion that “at a minimum Yousef’ s letter implies a
knowledge of how to employ this lethal substance in a terrorist attack” 29 is not
necessarily true. If cyanide were placed in the device, then Yousef would have
foreseen its incineration in the blast, and there is no evidence that Yousef had
recorded or developed a mechanism or action for the “successful” deployment of
sodium cyanide. In any event, the minor role played by WMD in this incident
makes the inclusion of this case study of questionable value and purpose.
The next case, an example of an “ethnic racist hate group,” deals with a
homegrown American group, the Covenant, Sword and Arm of the Lord (CSAL).
In the 1985 raid on the CSAL compound an impressive array of conventional
weapons were seized as well as a quantity of cyanide and plans to contaminate the
water supply of an unidentified city. Although Campbell mentions the plan to
contaminate water supplies and the discovery of a dispersal system in the com-
pound, these two points are not explained in detail—an important consideration
when the issue of seriousness of intent is considered. The issue of this form of
group arising from the large ideological pool of the Christian identity and white
supremacist movements is extremely important. Perhaps a better example may
be found six weeks after the Tokyo subway attack when an Ohio laboratory tech-
nician by the name of Larry Harris ordered the bacterium that causes bubonic
plague from a Maryland biological supply firm. Harris only attracted suspicion
when he called the firm four days later to find out why the vials of Yersinia
86 Review Article

pestis had not yet arrived. Officials at the company were concerned about his
unfamiliarity with laboratory procedure and contacted federal authorities. Harris
was later found to be a member of the white supremacist organization Aryan Nation
and also a member of the American Academy of Microbiology. The ease with
which Harris attempted to obtain these samples was indicative of the regulatory
neglect given to WMD ingredients. All Harris needed to obtain these bacteria was a
credit card and a false letterhead. 30
The last case study, that of the Provisional IRA (PIRA) is intended as a
control. The statement that the PIRA “reportedly” sent two members to Japan to
seek out Aum members to investigate the potentials of WMD is a lonely link to
the cult and is mentioned almost en passant.31 In any event, the PIRA is not
ordinarily regarded as a religious group, because the political, irredentist aspect
of their motivation eclipses the religious dimension. The religious element, as
with many other organizations, is basically a function of the group’ s membership.
The PIRA is also a good example of an essentially secular organization that
cannot afford to isolate its constituency or undermine sources of funding or po-
litical support through the use of WMD.
Despite certain drawbacks, Campbell’ s study is a pioneering work, represent-
ing a serious attempt to apply theoretical frameworks to the broader problem of
terrorism and WMD. As he freely admits, the true utility of his models would
require the sort of in-depth statistical analysis of a much larger number of groups
and incidents, which is beyond the time, scope, and resources applied to this
study.32 The groundwork, however, has certainly been established.
The conclusions drawn by each of the authors also reflects their familiarity
with terrorism as a discipline and the discourse on WMD in particular, as well as
their personal views. Brackett notes that states such as Iraq, Iran, and Libya that
are known to possess or to be developing chemical or biological weapons might
make these available to a terrorist group they sponsor.33 Such a course of action,
regardless of the secrecy with which it could be conducted, contains potentially
unacceptable risks for the sponsoring state. As Campbell points out, “The sponsor
of any WMD attack would undoubtedly elicit a response from the U.S. and other
modern industrial states that would threaten its very existence.” 34 In certain re-
spects both opinions miss the point. A state is unlikely to entrust such weapons to
a group over which it does not have complete control or whose absolute loyalty
it does not command, and were such an act considered, it would certainly be
conducted by a state’ s own intelligence services.
All the authors draw the same basic conclusion—that the use of a nerve agent
by Aum Shinrikyo is neither an isolated incident, nor will it be the last. Although
some of the cult’ s “success” can be ascribed to conditions that are uniquely
Japanese, to suggest that it cannot happen anywhere else would be premature.
Aum certainly provides an interesting story, but it is difficult to see what exactly
is being said that is new. The basic question that still must be asked is why a group
would consider WMD a viable option. Well before the Tokyo nerve gas attack, top
U.S. government, military, and intelligence officials were warning of the immi-
nent use of WMD by groups that are fundamentalist religious or ethnic in orien-
 Review Article 87

tation.35 WMD usage was not expected from a group such as Aum, however.
Predictions such as these seem even more ominous after the events of March
1995. Indeed, since 1995 there have been numerous incidents that underscore the
threat posed by terrorist deployment of WMD, such as the case of Larry Harris and
the ease with which biological samples can be obtained on the open market.
However, it is quite legitimate to view such incidents as the actions of individuals
and not the concerted efforts of organizations (whatever the individual’ s affiliation
might be). By the same token, the case of Aum itself can be seen as an aberration.
A primary concern is that the use of WMD will prove to be governed by the
idea of “imitative behavior.” Will other groups go to this extreme because it
appears to be so easy? Or has the whole issue been blown out of proportion? The
very fact that Aum was able to develop and successfully deploy a nerve agent has
moved the issue of WMD use by terrorists from theory to reality. As such, the
topic has been much discussed in government agencies, particularly in the United
States. Indeed, it would be fair to say that the American response has been pub-
licly and financially out of proportion to the response anywhere else, primarily
for bureaucratic political reasons. Defense analysts increasingly believe that do-
mestic security risks are rising as the U.S. appears more unassailable abroad.
These threats center mainly on a chemical or biological attack and have resulted
in a flurry of activity in enforcement agencies such as the Federal Bureau of
Investigation and also a redirection of organizations such as the Federal Emer-
gency Management Agency (FEMA). On June 21, 1995, President Bill Clinton
signed Presidential Decision Directive 39 (PDD 39) which deals with U.S. counter-
terrorism policy.36 Among other things, PDD 39 advocated a review of the Fed-
eral response plan for managing the aftermath of large-scale terrorist acts, par-
ticularly those involving nuclear, chemical, or biological devices. The scenarios
considered included nuclear detonation, radiological dispersion, the release of
anthrax, and the release of both persistent and nonpersistent chemical agents.37
Demarcation between the roles of individual organizations is unclear, and the
appropriate response would seem to be some form of coordinating body.
These questions raise the important issues of what sort of group Aum was
and the environment in which it existed. In this regard, Kaplan and Marshall and
Brackett offer the greater insight. Aum Shinrikyo was a religious cult38 that had
official religious status under Japan’ s Religious Corporation Law of 1951. The
Religious Corporation Law reflected the attitude of the Japanese constitution with
regard to religious freedoms, a reaction to the oppressive prewar treatment of
new religions. Even after the subway attack, Shoko Asahara, the founder and
leader of Aum Shinrikyo, issued statements denying the cult’ s involvement and
citing examples of government suppression of religious groups before World War
II.39 The law grants official religions tax exemptions and a high degree of free-
dom from state intrusion (partly as a response to Aum, European governments,
among others, have begun monitoring religious cults). Japan is also a country
awash with religious groups. It is estimated that Japan has around 185,000 legally
registered religious groups. It is this special status that goes some way toward
explaining the lax approach of the Japanese police to Aum, despite a litany of
88 Review Article

complaints and suspicious evidence. As mentioned earlier, Aum’ s theology was

eclectic. Aum began as a form of yogic sect and developed into a well-financed
cult willing and capable of carrying out acts of mass violence in the expectation
of some cataclysmic, messianic redemption. Aum did not begin as a violent,
religiously motivated group of the type that is immediately suspected by the
authorities unless it is small and highly disciplined. Nor does Aum’ s eclectic
ideology, borrowing selectively from Eastern and Western eschatological thought,
make it an easy belief system to categorize, which poses problems for any study
of religiously motivated groups and their relationship to violence.
Aum’ s varied areas of research are proof of the group’ s unusual origins.
Apart from nerve agents Aum showed an acute interest in a variety of biological
agents. In 1992 Shoko Asahara and about forty cult members traveled to Zaire,
allegedly to help treat victims of the Ebola virus. The group’ s real purpose, as
suggested in the 1995 U.S. Senate’ s Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations,
was to obtain samples of the virus, culture them, and develop these cultures into
biological weapons. Japanese police discovered that Aum also worked on the
creation of other biological agents such anthrax, botulinum toxin, and Q fever.
Biological agents are cheaper and easier to produce than chemical agents, and
some pathogens have the potential to be far more lethal than nerve agents. The
group also investigated purchasing a nuclear weapon in the former Soviet Union.40
Aum’ s explorations of other areas of weaponry were unrealistic, verging on the
bizarre. Aum investigated the utility of laser weaponry, laser uranium enrich-
ment, railguns (a projectile weapon which uses electromagnetic energy), and even
the possibility of developing some form of earthquake-generating weapon.41
The unusual nature of Aum Shinrikyo is further underscored by its fate since
the Tokyo nerve gas attacks and the subsequent trials. After the spate of arrests
made after the Tokyo attack, measures were taken to suppress the organization
completely. As Brackett notes, by late October 1995 Tokyo District Court Judge
Seishi Kanetsuki ordered the sect disbanded under the Religious Organizations
Law. Despite an appeal by Aum lawyers, this decision was upheld by the Tokyo
High Court in mid-December. Perhaps more seriously, the Public Security Inves-
tigation Agency recommended to the government that it apply the draconian
1952 Subversive Activities Prevention Act, previously applied only to individual
left-wing extremists and not against groups. Approved by then Prime Minister
Murayama, the act was applied. By the end of December 1995, as Brackett puts
it, Aum Shinrikyo “was being ground into the dust of history by the combined
weight of Japan’ s police, judiciary and the government.” 42 However, in January
1997 the independent Public Security Commission dismissed the security agency’ s
request to outlaw Aum. The agency continues to warn that Aum maintains “dan-
gerous teachings” that justify homicide. Information on Aum, including Shoko
Asahara’ s world outlook, can still be easily obtained, however, through the group’ s
website and associated publications.43 The cult also continues to recruit new
members.
The three books offer different angles to a unique group and to an incident
whose wider ramifications are still being felt. As a result of the Tokyo subway
 Review Article 89

attack, any threatened use of these weapons now carries a far more sinister over-
tone than before, both for governments and for the general public. However, the
fear element of WMD alone, independent of any development or deployment,
can prove to be an extremely powerful psychological weapon. In this respect the
volume of literature on the subject and the extent of contingency planning have
the potential to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The possibility remains that the
more public exposure there is to this threat, the more likely it will push a group
or individual, regardless of ideology, to attempt to use some form of WMD. The
fear that Iraqi SCUD missiles launched against Israel contained biological or
chemical weapons caused panic and a threat of escalation completely out of
proportion to the actual physical damage the missiles caused. Recently there was
a report that Nassar Asad al-Tamini of the Palestinian Islamic Jihad brought up
the possibility of using biological weapons against Israel and Israelis, and the
apparent ease with which such weapons can be acquired. 44 It is important to
remember that from a psychological standpoint all that is required is possession
and not necessarily an effective delivery system. One can only begin to imagine
the psychological impact of the discovery of a crude chemical or biological ter-
rorist device planted in Tel Aviv. All of these instances show the seriousness with
which an appalling possibility, however remote, is taken by policymakers, a pos-
sibility indelibly etched in the popular consciousness by the cold, hard reality of
the Tokyo subway attack.

Notes
1. For the purposes of this article, WMD will include nuclear explosives and radio-
logical contaminants, lethal chemicals, and lethal biological agents (toxins and patho-
gens). A definition is necessary because of a tendency to include large-scale conven-
tional explosive devices and even “triggers,” as Campbell does with regard to computers
(p. 7). As Campbell notes, Timothy McVeigh was convicted inter alia of using “a weapon
of mass destruction.”
2. See, for example, B. J. Berkowitz et al., Superviolence: The Civil Threat of
Mass Destruction Weapons (Santa Monica: RAND, 1972), B. Jenkins, High Technology
Terrorism and Surrogate War: The Impact of New Technology on Low-Level Violence
(Santa Monica: RAND, 1975), D. L. Milbank, International and Transnational Terror-
ism: Diagnosis and Prognosis (Washington, DC: Central Intelligence Agency, 1976),
and R. K. Mullen, “Mass Destruction and Terrorism,” Journal of International Affairs,
vol. 32, no. 1 (1978): 62–89.
3. Exodus 7–11.
4. The only confirmed combat use of biological agents such as plague bacteria is
attributed to Japanese.
5. These arguments are outlined in Campbell, pp. 3–4.
6. See B. Hoffman, “`Holy Terror’ : The Implications of Terrorism Motivated by a
Religious Imperative,” Studies in Conflict and Terrorism, vol. 18, no. 4 (1995): 272–273.
7. B. Hoffman, Inside Terro rism (London: Victor Gollancz, 1998), pp.
94–95.
8. The failure to topple the tower can be attributed largely to the location of the
bomb.
90 Review Article

9. Campbell, pp. 3–4.

10. An exception to this might be the deployment of a “dirty bomb” by Chechen
separatists in a Moscow park in November 1995. The issue here is one of intent. The
Chechen action was more a propaganda exercise designed to show the vulnerability of
Russian cities and the resources of the separatists. It is highly unlikely that the device
would have been used, if for no other reason than the fear of massive retaliation.
11. For more on this, see M. Ranstorp, “Terrorism in the Name of Religion,” Jour-
nal of International Affairs, vol. 50, no. 1 (1996): 41–62.
12. The CWC was opened for signature in 1993 but did not enter into force until
1997. At the time of writing the CWC has been signed by 168 countries and ratified by
107. So far over 200 inspections have been carried out in about twenty-five countries.
13. L. Cole, “The Specter of Biological Weapons,” Scientific American, vol. 275,
no. 6 (1996): 32.
14. Brackett, p. 146.
15. Tabun belongs to the family of “G” agents, which also includes soman and sarin.
16. As Brackett notes, it is still unclear exactly why Aum chose sarin
(p. 118).
17. F. Barnaby, “Terrorism and Mass Destruction Weapons,” First International Work-
shop on Low-Intensity Conflict, Stockholm, March 29–31, 1995, pp. 347–348.
18. Kaplan and Marshall, pp. 163–164.
19. Ibid., p. 120.
20. These were the strange wired hats worn by group members that supposedly
tuned the wearer’ s mind to the brain waves of the guru.
21. Brackett, pp. 73–74.
22. Ibid., pp. 89–90.
23. See, for instance, casualty assessments for various agents calculated in M.
Moodie, “Weapons Effects: Chemical and Biological Weapons,” presentation to Work-
shop on Arms Control and Security Improvements in the Middle East, Cairo, March 23–
26, 1998.
24. Campbell, p. 10.
25. A less theoretically weighted version of Campbell’ s basic ideas and the Aum
case study can be found in J. K. Campbell, “Excerpts from Research Study `Weapons of
Mass Destruction Terrorism: Proliferation by Non-State Actors’ ,” Terrorism and Politi-
cal Violence, vol. 9, no. 2 (1997): 24–50.
26. For example, see the tables on pp. 125 and 141. There is further evidence of a
rushed editorial process, the most glaring of which is certainly the misspelling of “apoca-
lypse” on the front cover.
27. Campbell, p. 79.
28. Ibid., p. 92.
29. Ibid.
30. Cole, “The Specter of Biological Weapons,” p. 31.
31. Daily Telegraph, June 3, 1996. This report is unsupported by any other corrobo-
rative open source evidence.
32. Campbell, p. 9.
33. Brackett, p. 186.
34. Campbell, p. 31. For a contrary view, see A. Cordesman, “Terrorism and the
Threat from Weapons of Mass Destruction in the Middle East: The Problem of Paradigm
Shifts,” working draft, Middle East Studies Program, Online Reports, October 22, 1996.
 Review Article 91

35. See, for example, “Chemical Weapons,” Defense Newsletter, vol. 12, no. 12
(1993), and “United States: The Super Terrorism Age,” Intelligence Newsletter, no. 253,
December 1, 1994.
36. Other related U.S. legislation includes the 1989 Biological Weapons Antiterror-
ism Act, the 1996 Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act, and the 1997 Defense
Authorization Act.
37. FEMA’ s new guide on such operations and other information can be found at
their website, http://www.fema.gov.
38. Some commentators are uncomfortable with the word “cult.” Michael Barkun
believes the word “tells us more about the people using it than about those to whom it is
applied. It has become little more than a label slapped on religious groups regarded as
too exotic, marginal or dangerous” (see “Reflections After Waco: Millennialists and the
State,” in Religious Cults in America, ed. R. E. Long (New York: H. W. Wilson, 1994),
p. 52. While it is true that the word cult is misused, it is still appropriate in its original
meaning of “devotion to a person” when discussing groups that are not directly related to
a single religious tradition, and when the leader has effectively constructed the theology
and become deified.
39. Kyodo News Service, April 20, 1995. Asahara said that if the government “op-
presses a prophet, the people should suffer a national disaster.”
40. Kaplan and Marshall, p. 112, and Brackett, p. 98.
41. Kaplan and Marshall, pp. 224–225.
42. Brackett, p. 177.
43. See http://www.aum-shinrikyo.com.
44. Middle East Dispatch, “Biological Weapons Threat,” 2/094, April 14, 1998.