Friday, September 12, 2003
Two Years On . . .
I would be remiss not to comment, however meagerly, on the passage of the 2nd anniversary of September 11, 2001.
What seems paramount now, is how long ago it all seems. Perhaps I'm now totally acclimated into the world that 9/11 introduced us to; memory is such a personal thing that the distance of an event is inextricably tied to those events that followed it however unrelated, and my life has changed several times since that day.
But this is illusory; two years, or 730 days is a fairly trifling figure. By whatever combination of circumstance or fortune, noone I know was killed that day. But the abrupt extinguishing of some 3000 lives directly affected millions more. Friends of mine, and friends or family of theirs might have been on one of the flights, or in the WTC, but for some accident of fate. It turns out that we are a smaller country than we thought.
The act spoke for itself, which may be why so many people (notably on the far Left, but also on the far Right) felt compelled to interpret it and claim that their interpretations were the truly authentic ones. That they continued to advance these, without pause, when more susbstantive statements by the perpetrators were onhand, can only testify to how distant these voices have grown from the reality that you and I share. When Noam Chomsky declares it "entirely possible" that Bin Laden did not know about the 11 September attacks or that Bin Laden can be "taken at his word," this is the mark of someone in the advanced stages of delusion - perhaps a delusion as profound as whatever made Bin Laden think that his god was to be appeased by the immolation of thousands.
Thankfully, this was a delusion limited to marginal, if expressive segments of the public.
In conversation with people last night, we touched on a few points of contention. Were the victims of 9/11 heroes? Martyrs? I had thought that martyrdom required the choice to die, so the term seems inapt. The question of whether they were heroes is more difficult to address. Certainly the firefighters and police and the passengers on Flight 93 more than meet the standard; indeed it seemed to me that their heroism gave the country, or at least myself, some precious solace in the wake of the event, when fears about what lay ahead were most pronounced.
That, however, leaves so many others unconsidered - ordinary working people taking a flight or going to work on a mundane day without any way of knowing what calamity awaited them. Were they heroes? To a broader public, perhaps not. But to read the profiles of these individuals published in the New York Times afterward is to conclude that many, most, all perhaps were heroes in an everyday sense: parents, children or siblings working to support their families, serving as examples to others. It's our misfortune not to have known them before the calamity, but we need not compound it by presuming what they were not.
A broad, diverse segment of America and the world was taken away that morning and if we pause to linger, we can see reflections of ourselves among the victims. America remains a great place, and the post-9/11 world has jarred us yet again out of yet another fit of inaction in the larger world (for better or for worse, as my opinion of Bush's policy is mixed). But a necessary part of marking this day is remember the fragility of life, even in America, and to understand what that knowledge impels us to do, in our lives and in the world.
I would be remiss not to comment, however meagerly, on the passage of the 2nd anniversary of September 11, 2001.
What seems paramount now, is how long ago it all seems. Perhaps I'm now totally acclimated into the world that 9/11 introduced us to; memory is such a personal thing that the distance of an event is inextricably tied to those events that followed it however unrelated, and my life has changed several times since that day.
But this is illusory; two years, or 730 days is a fairly trifling figure. By whatever combination of circumstance or fortune, noone I know was killed that day. But the abrupt extinguishing of some 3000 lives directly affected millions more. Friends of mine, and friends or family of theirs might have been on one of the flights, or in the WTC, but for some accident of fate. It turns out that we are a smaller country than we thought.
The act spoke for itself, which may be why so many people (notably on the far Left, but also on the far Right) felt compelled to interpret it and claim that their interpretations were the truly authentic ones. That they continued to advance these, without pause, when more susbstantive statements by the perpetrators were onhand, can only testify to how distant these voices have grown from the reality that you and I share. When Noam Chomsky declares it "entirely possible" that Bin Laden did not know about the 11 September attacks or that Bin Laden can be "taken at his word," this is the mark of someone in the advanced stages of delusion - perhaps a delusion as profound as whatever made Bin Laden think that his god was to be appeased by the immolation of thousands.
Thankfully, this was a delusion limited to marginal, if expressive segments of the public.
In conversation with people last night, we touched on a few points of contention. Were the victims of 9/11 heroes? Martyrs? I had thought that martyrdom required the choice to die, so the term seems inapt. The question of whether they were heroes is more difficult to address. Certainly the firefighters and police and the passengers on Flight 93 more than meet the standard; indeed it seemed to me that their heroism gave the country, or at least myself, some precious solace in the wake of the event, when fears about what lay ahead were most pronounced.
That, however, leaves so many others unconsidered - ordinary working people taking a flight or going to work on a mundane day without any way of knowing what calamity awaited them. Were they heroes? To a broader public, perhaps not. But to read the profiles of these individuals published in the New York Times afterward is to conclude that many, most, all perhaps were heroes in an everyday sense: parents, children or siblings working to support their families, serving as examples to others. It's our misfortune not to have known them before the calamity, but we need not compound it by presuming what they were not.
A broad, diverse segment of America and the world was taken away that morning and if we pause to linger, we can see reflections of ourselves among the victims. America remains a great place, and the post-9/11 world has jarred us yet again out of yet another fit of inaction in the larger world (for better or for worse, as my opinion of Bush's policy is mixed). But a necessary part of marking this day is remember the fragility of life, even in America, and to understand what that knowledge impels us to do, in our lives and in the world.
