Musing on a Decade of Fear
It has been a decade since I won the day in Boston traffic court.
An overzealous cop had flagged me and I exercised my right to redress my grievance using our courts and the rule of law. Though I was vindicated my satisfaction was short lived. It was September 11 2001. The court date had gotten me up much earlier than usual. As I sipped my coffee in the waiting area there was curiosity about reports that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. My name was called and I made my case. As I left the court to navigate public transportation from Dorchester to South Boston curiosity had turned to concern as reports of a second plane hitting the towers had come in. Something strange was in the air unease was spreading. Listening to radio reports in Muls diner the Pentagon was hit and a field in Pennsylvania now cradled more dead. Danger was clear and present and things would not be the same. I had no idea then how profoundly that process of rights and the rule of law had been shaken. Even today we endure the reverberations.
That the severe property damage that claimed some three thousand souls from all corners of the globe in a body count not yet complete as the toxins released continue to unfold their consequences is indeed a tragedy deserving of honor and remembrance. That it has replaced the Alamo as the essential American battle cry is also a tragedy.
A decade ago on September 11, 2001 the world was bleeding with us. The unity in the pain and sorrow showed us the hope of the phoenix. That from these ashes new life would rise, that our blood mingling with that of other civilized peoples would bind us in common cause to transcend our petty differences and on the demands of justice for all we would usher in a new world order based on civility and respect. Having shared in sacrifice we would not cede these new standards to anyone, anywhere.
A decade ago on September 11, 2001 I like so many others was shocked, stunned, threatened, numb but hopeful. A decade ago on September 12, 2001 our so called leader gave voice to the basest aspects of our mythology in macho pose proclaiming that we alone were grieved and that we alone would claim revenge. He rounded up his posse swearing to “smoke out the evildoers”, “you are with us or against us” stay out of our way because now there is hell to pay. He indeed insured that it was Hell that paid, that the tragedy would indeed be tragic. In a manner that would make Machiavelli blush he wielded fear for the benefit of the few waging wars “off budget” raiding the treasury for adventures of choice and greed that under any other circumstances would be called treason and nipped in the bud. He amplified the tragedy making sure that Hell was paid in full with interest when he committed a generation of passionate children to an unwinnable war on a concept. Constant vigilance – we are at war on Terror itself – be afraid – be very afraid we have only fear to bind us. A double speak that Orwell could not imagine has become our political tongue as today his cronies recreate the gilded age of the oil barons insisting that the treasury he robbed for them be repaid in full – by others.
On September 11 2011 I join in mourning a tragedy.
On September 12, 2011 join me in mourning the day we made it tragic.