“Don’t think of them as terrorist states. Think of them as terrorist markets.” Thus reads a cartoon published in The New Yorker in May 2003.1 The picture depicts a boardroom or seminar room. Seven people have gathered around a shiny conference table and brought notebooks, coffee, soft drinks, a cellular phone, and a laptop computer. Their attire is formal and office-like. The men are wearing jackets and ties, the women prim jerseys or dresses, and all have conventional haircuts. Almost all are donned with glasses. The room exudes power: its windows reach from floor to ceiling, there is art on the wall, the table is ostensibly big, the swivel chairs seem comfortable, and there is ample space. The person chairing the meeting is sitting at the top of the table in a bigger, executive type of chair. Outside, through the window, one can half see the top of the capitol building, the seat of Congress, flying a flag. The participants are all turned toward the person sitting at the head of the table, with their mouths closed. They are listening in an attentive, somewhat subservient manner, but appear open and dignified. The person that presides over the meeting is more senior. He is speaking – his mouth is opened – with his arms crossed. He sits back however, leaning against the chair. His notes lie untouched in front of him. He speaks to no one in particular, but with authority and poise he states: “Don’t think of them as terrorist states. Think of them as terrorist markets.”