Five Years Later
September 11, 2006
I, like some 95% of Americans, know exactly where I was on September 11, 2001 when the terrorists attacked. As soon as the first plane hit the World Trade Center I received a call from my colleague, Heidi Cohen, relaying the terrible news. I immediately switched on the TV and watched as the towers shook and then crumbled in a colossal heap—a grotesque monument to debased inhumanity. Throughout the day, as I went about the congregational and communal tasks of dealing with the crisis, I, together with a nation united in shock, remained attuned to the flickering screen as the horrific events unfolded. It became the horrible, unimaginable leitmotif of that day and those that followed as we tried to sort out the magnitude of this crime against humanity.
For days the scenes on the television were repeated and repeated in a soul-numbing ballet of grief and wanton destruction. How many died? How many survived? Who by falling stones? Who by fire? Questions raged about us in a sad echo of the U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Days, then as now, just beyond the horizon of that awful morning.
Our High Holy Days require of us a Heshbon ha-Nefesh—a personal accounting of our lives and the direction in which we are headed. That time of the Yamim Nora'im—the Days of Awe—in 2001 brought us to an accounting unlike any other in recent memory. We asked questions about the future (both personal and collective) and plumbed the depths of our souls to find some meaning, some hope to emerge from the rubble and the shattered sense of security that we had vouchsafed ourselves before September 11th.
On that day five years ago America, and much of the world, joined the existential war in which Israel has been engaged since its founding. It is a war as much with ourselves as with any outside enemy. And, in a way, the external threat is much easier to deal with than our internal battles.
The enemy without is clear—a foe bent on our destruction, challenging us at every turn to steel ourselves and be ever watchful against a constant threat to our security and physical welfare. And so, we set up commissions and agencies to oversee and to warrant our now all too tenuous national security against an intractable enemy. We set out on military ventures in hot pursuit of a wily and elusive international terrorist network unlike any opponent we have faced in battle before. By their own declarations our enemies call for our destruction, thus our terrorist enemy has removed any semblance of ambiguity about the nature of this war in which we are entangled.
On the other hand, the battle within us has no clear lines. We are plagued as much by our own conscience and morality as we are by terrorist bombs. Even today, five years after the collapse of the World Trade Center and the attack on the Pentagon, we weigh and debate and struggle with the means that we employ to cut off yet another of the hydra-heads of those poised against us, and our very civilization. Each action and restriction upon personal freedom undertaken in the name of protecting our physical security gives rise to a hundred questions—to what extent do we compromise our values in order to defeat an enemy bent upon destroying the civilization established upon the foundation of those values. We struggle and we make compromises with our ideals and have done so for the past five years. Our enemies see this struggle as a sign of weakness, a lack of courage and resolve. But, I would argue that our battle within is, in fact, a manifestation of our strength as a nation and as a civilization.
The ability to scrutinize and question our motives and actions is a hallmark of democratic civilization. Our leaders are subject to accountability and can be challenged and even replaced by their constituency. We see such questioning in the US, in Britain, and here in Israel as the media raises issues such as Guantanamo detention, or the prosecution of the war in Lebanon. We do not see it in the enemy camp whose leaders disdain criticism and who are replaced by coup and assassin more often than by the ballot.
There are those who describe September 11, 2001 as the opening salvo of World War III. However, if this is true, then this is a war unlike any other. It will last much longer than the four years of World War I or the six years of World War II. There will be no set battlefields like the Ardennes or Guadalcanal—this war is being waged on a global front. Just as we Israelis came to realize that the home front is the front, the rest of the world is slowly coming to the conclusion that there is no place away from the heat of battle as it is being waged right where we live.
And, unlike either WWI or WWII, this war is not about territory so much as it is a clash of civilizations and ideologies. This is a war waged by radical Islam against the rest of the world, not just Christian “Crusaders” and Jewish infidels, but against every non-Muslim whom the fanatics of Islam mark for domination and destruction. This is by their own admission, expressed in their own propaganda. The question is, do we take them at their word, do we believe them, or do we simply discount what they say as so much rhetoric meant only for internal consumption?
Tragically absent so far in this war are clear, strong, authoritative and numerous voices within the Islamic world condemning the fanatics and actively working against them. Until that changes, the war will drag on for years, perhaps decades.
Ultimately it will not be the West (alone) that will defeat the terrorists and the warriors of radical Islam, it will be the Muslim world itself—any and all those who seek a better world for themselves and their children, one in which life is cherished instead of sacrificed, where actions are informed by values rather than inflamed by fanatical rhetoric. Our challenge is to foster and encourage those voices. It is far more difficult a strategic objective to achieve than any tactical battlefield military objective. And how, I wonder, do we prosecute that kind of war? Does anyone know?
So, have we learned anything since that woe-filled day five years ago? I believe so. I do not think that we are as naïve as we were before 9/11, walking about with a false sense of security as we did before the WTC perfidy. There is a lot that we do not take for granted anymore—beyond our personal safety. There are probably very few people today who do not see this war for what it is—an existential war pitting us against an enemy out to destroy us.
But, there is so much that we have yet to learn. I open the papers today and see that “negotiations” are continuing with Iran over its freeze on its nuclear program. Though it has categorically rejected the latest (supposedly last) offer of compromise by the Europeans, the representatives of the EU persist in pursuing talk rather than sanctions. And Israel, the country most directly (but not solely) threatened by a nuclear-armed Iran debates whether or not to take unilateral action to thwart Iran’s nuclear ambitions. Talk is always better than the use of force to achieve objectives, but unless force is a credible consequence of the breakdown in discussions, then negotiations have little hope of achieving anything. What, after all, do the Iranians stand to lose? Why should they accept the UN’s offers if it faces no consequences for acting otherwise?
Have we learned anything from 9/11? I am not sure. Can we deal with its consequences? Maybe the answer is to be found in the words of the same U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Day liturgy that echoed in my ears five years ago today—U’teshuvah, u’tefilah, u’tzedakah ma’avirin et ro’a ha-g’zerah—“Repentance, prayer and righteousness bring us through the evil decree” (translation my own). “Repentance” implies the resolve to deal with our realities. “Prayer” (as the Hebrew word suggests) involves self-scrutiny and self-judgment; it directs us to strategic planning for dealing with our realities. And, lastly, “righteousness” alludes to value-based action resulting from our resolve and self-scrutiny in order to effect meaningful change upon our realities. This formula will not “avert the evil decree” (following the traditional translation of the verse), but it can help us to effectively “get through” (from the Hebrew word ma’avirin) the difficult realities and challenges that confront us after that fateful day five years ago today. Whether or not the likes of Al Qaeda and the forces of radical Islam will be defeated will ultimately be up to the Islamic world itself. Whether or not we and our civilization will be defeated will be up to us.
Shalom from Jerusalem.
For days the scenes on the television were repeated and repeated in a soul-numbing ballet of grief and wanton destruction. How many died? How many survived? Who by falling stones? Who by fire? Questions raged about us in a sad echo of the U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Days, then as now, just beyond the horizon of that awful morning.
Our High Holy Days require of us a Heshbon ha-Nefesh—a personal accounting of our lives and the direction in which we are headed. That time of the Yamim Nora'im—the Days of Awe—in 2001 brought us to an accounting unlike any other in recent memory. We asked questions about the future (both personal and collective) and plumbed the depths of our souls to find some meaning, some hope to emerge from the rubble and the shattered sense of security that we had vouchsafed ourselves before September 11th.
On that day five years ago America, and much of the world, joined the existential war in which Israel has been engaged since its founding. It is a war as much with ourselves as with any outside enemy. And, in a way, the external threat is much easier to deal with than our internal battles.
The enemy without is clear—a foe bent on our destruction, challenging us at every turn to steel ourselves and be ever watchful against a constant threat to our security and physical welfare. And so, we set up commissions and agencies to oversee and to warrant our now all too tenuous national security against an intractable enemy. We set out on military ventures in hot pursuit of a wily and elusive international terrorist network unlike any opponent we have faced in battle before. By their own declarations our enemies call for our destruction, thus our terrorist enemy has removed any semblance of ambiguity about the nature of this war in which we are entangled.
On the other hand, the battle within us has no clear lines. We are plagued as much by our own conscience and morality as we are by terrorist bombs. Even today, five years after the collapse of the World Trade Center and the attack on the Pentagon, we weigh and debate and struggle with the means that we employ to cut off yet another of the hydra-heads of those poised against us, and our very civilization. Each action and restriction upon personal freedom undertaken in the name of protecting our physical security gives rise to a hundred questions—to what extent do we compromise our values in order to defeat an enemy bent upon destroying the civilization established upon the foundation of those values. We struggle and we make compromises with our ideals and have done so for the past five years. Our enemies see this struggle as a sign of weakness, a lack of courage and resolve. But, I would argue that our battle within is, in fact, a manifestation of our strength as a nation and as a civilization.
The ability to scrutinize and question our motives and actions is a hallmark of democratic civilization. Our leaders are subject to accountability and can be challenged and even replaced by their constituency. We see such questioning in the US, in Britain, and here in Israel as the media raises issues such as Guantanamo detention, or the prosecution of the war in Lebanon. We do not see it in the enemy camp whose leaders disdain criticism and who are replaced by coup and assassin more often than by the ballot.
There are those who describe September 11, 2001 as the opening salvo of World War III. However, if this is true, then this is a war unlike any other. It will last much longer than the four years of World War I or the six years of World War II. There will be no set battlefields like the Ardennes or Guadalcanal—this war is being waged on a global front. Just as we Israelis came to realize that the home front is the front, the rest of the world is slowly coming to the conclusion that there is no place away from the heat of battle as it is being waged right where we live.
And, unlike either WWI or WWII, this war is not about territory so much as it is a clash of civilizations and ideologies. This is a war waged by radical Islam against the rest of the world, not just Christian “Crusaders” and Jewish infidels, but against every non-Muslim whom the fanatics of Islam mark for domination and destruction. This is by their own admission, expressed in their own propaganda. The question is, do we take them at their word, do we believe them, or do we simply discount what they say as so much rhetoric meant only for internal consumption?
Tragically absent so far in this war are clear, strong, authoritative and numerous voices within the Islamic world condemning the fanatics and actively working against them. Until that changes, the war will drag on for years, perhaps decades.
Ultimately it will not be the West (alone) that will defeat the terrorists and the warriors of radical Islam, it will be the Muslim world itself—any and all those who seek a better world for themselves and their children, one in which life is cherished instead of sacrificed, where actions are informed by values rather than inflamed by fanatical rhetoric. Our challenge is to foster and encourage those voices. It is far more difficult a strategic objective to achieve than any tactical battlefield military objective. And how, I wonder, do we prosecute that kind of war? Does anyone know?
So, have we learned anything since that woe-filled day five years ago? I believe so. I do not think that we are as naïve as we were before 9/11, walking about with a false sense of security as we did before the WTC perfidy. There is a lot that we do not take for granted anymore—beyond our personal safety. There are probably very few people today who do not see this war for what it is—an existential war pitting us against an enemy out to destroy us.
But, there is so much that we have yet to learn. I open the papers today and see that “negotiations” are continuing with Iran over its freeze on its nuclear program. Though it has categorically rejected the latest (supposedly last) offer of compromise by the Europeans, the representatives of the EU persist in pursuing talk rather than sanctions. And Israel, the country most directly (but not solely) threatened by a nuclear-armed Iran debates whether or not to take unilateral action to thwart Iran’s nuclear ambitions. Talk is always better than the use of force to achieve objectives, but unless force is a credible consequence of the breakdown in discussions, then negotiations have little hope of achieving anything. What, after all, do the Iranians stand to lose? Why should they accept the UN’s offers if it faces no consequences for acting otherwise?
Have we learned anything from 9/11? I am not sure. Can we deal with its consequences? Maybe the answer is to be found in the words of the same U’netaneh Tokef prayer of the High Holy Day liturgy that echoed in my ears five years ago today—U’teshuvah, u’tefilah, u’tzedakah ma’avirin et ro’a ha-g’zerah—“Repentance, prayer and righteousness bring us through the evil decree” (translation my own). “Repentance” implies the resolve to deal with our realities. “Prayer” (as the Hebrew word suggests) involves self-scrutiny and self-judgment; it directs us to strategic planning for dealing with our realities. And, lastly, “righteousness” alludes to value-based action resulting from our resolve and self-scrutiny in order to effect meaningful change upon our realities. This formula will not “avert the evil decree” (following the traditional translation of the verse), but it can help us to effectively “get through” (from the Hebrew word ma’avirin) the difficult realities and challenges that confront us after that fateful day five years ago today. Whether or not the likes of Al Qaeda and the forces of radical Islam will be defeated will ultimately be up to the Islamic world itself. Whether or not we and our civilization will be defeated will be up to us.
Shalom from Jerusalem.
posted by RSJD at 1:43 PM
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