Saying “no” to fear and hate

Remembering the September 11 attacks

Nine years ago this weekend, a cabal of insane criminals carried out one of the most horrific acts in recent world history. Now, as we commemorate yet another anniversary of the tragedy, people all over the world – Americans in particular – are remembering and trying to make sense of the horror that occurred on that awful Tuesday morning.

One hard but unavoidable reality associated with the anniversary is that just about everyone who speaks up on the subject will be attempting to "use" the event for present-day purposes. This is true whether it's disturbed souls like Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin and the nutty Florida pastor or insightful commentators like Michael Winship (a New York-based writer who called for silent and peaceful reflection in a nice column this week). For better or worse, the event was simply too momentous and important for us merely to acknowledge it, honor the dead and move on. If we speak at all about September 11, 2001, it is inevitable that we reflect on its implications for the present and the future.

For many progressives, the seminal lesson of the 9/11 tragedy is, though profound, not that terribly different from the lessons we should glean from any number of other unspeakably horrific inhumanities that have occurred in recent decades – be it Rwandan genocide, the maintenance of nations like North Korea and Myanmar as modern day gulag states or the almost daily suicide attacks that continue to afflict the Middle East and parts of Central Asia.

The obvious truth is that when nearly seven billion humans are attempting to coexist on a crowded and fragile planet, it is, to put it mildly, stressful. Parts of the world will, almost inevitably, come to resemble boiling stews that will produce inhumane – even insane – behavior on a large scale.

As New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman has noted on multiple occasions during the last decade, when millions of young people in the Middle East perceive themselves as having no hope of enjoying happy, healthy, prosperous lives, it's little surprise that they latch onto the promises of crazy gangs and cults. We need look no further than our own depressed communities to find innumerable examples of similar behavior.  

And we need look no further than many of the world's wealthiest communities – places where affluent Muslims and Jews and Christians and non-religious people live in comfortable proximity with little or no rancor – to understand what's really at the root of vast proportions of the world's violence and "terrorism."

Where the flame burns hot beneath a country or a community, mass anti-social behavior generally intensifies. Where the flame is lower, the pot overflows a lot less often.

The implications of this reality for average Americans are not always immediately evident. Clearly, we would all prefer that our government do what it can to keep the fires of violence away from where we and our loved ones live and travel. The thousands of North Carolinians with family members stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan can be forgiven if they just want their loved ones to return home to them in one piece and un-singed.

When it comes to big picture policy decisions, however, there seems to be a slowly emerging consensus that it is extremely difficult to calm a collection of boiling pots by relying almost exclusively upon a giant military blowtorch. Somehow, we need to find ways to help turn down the heat.

Unfortunately, even as more and more people seem to be grasping the wisdom of flame avoidance and suppression as a policy overseas, some on the right seem to feel a need to turn up the heat at home. Witness the recent ignorance and madness surrounding the so-called "ground zero Mosque" and the latest irresponsible rants of opportunists like Beck, Palin and Newt Gingrich. Listen to the hateful and divisive talk of the anti-immigrant crowd and many of the tea partiers.

Here is a collection of people (many of them distressingly prominent) who seem bent upon mimicking the behavior of the thugs they purport to oppose and undercutting moderate voices who might help build bridges and common ground between divergent cultures forced to coexist in a shrinking world. Some of these sad hypocrites are even pursuing their hate-based policies in the name of the one known by many as the Prince of Peace.

So what does this mean for average, caring Americans and the posture they ought to adopt in the debate surrounding this clash of cultures that afflicts the planet? As even a moment of honest reflection and self-examination ought to tell us, the answer cannot lie with promoting more violence, hatred and self-glorification.

Do Americans and their allies in the western democracies have much of which to be proud and promote? Of course. There is nothing wrong with patriotism or a deep-seated belief in one's homeland and its culture and ideals. There are many great insights that we have to share and champion. American remains a beacon to the world.

But it's also clear that we do not have every single answer. Our society is far from perfect and the criticisms leveled against it by people in other parts of the world are not rendered automatically inaccurate or invalid merely because their societies are flawed or include a healthy ration of hypocrites or are led by theocratic despots.

Throughout history, many great and successful leaders have shown us that humility and an open, tolerant mind can be just as important in winning hearts and minds and in spreading enlightenment as a clenched fist.     

So, how should we best "use" this year's anniversary of September 11 to advance a positive result? Michael Winship's article provides a helpful suggestion.

In it, he tells of the first official victim of the 9/11 attacks, New York City Fire Department Chaplain, Father Mychal Judge. Winship concludes his article by urging us to remember the words of St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the order of friars to which Judge belonged: 

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy."

It seems a sure thing that Father Mychal would echo this sentiment.