Where Were You?
It is the question that often comes up when speaking about the attacks of September 11, 2001. Any human being who was alive and conscious remembers that day…
I was fortunate to have experienced 9/11 from a safe distance. Interlaken, Switzerland, to be exact. On a once-in-a-lifetime trip around Europe at age 25, I had just wrapped up an afternoon of bike riding. As I coasted downhill from Lauterbrunnen — waterfalls alongside me, whizzing by cows in open pastures — I had no idea of the contrast that awaited me back in town. When I returned my rented mountain bike, I paid an extra Swiss Franc to check my email on one of the few desktop computers the shop rented (yes, it was back when ‘Internet cafes’ existed). The man behind the counter waved at me and pointed to the TV mounted in the corner. “Look,” he said in a thick, foreign accent, “Your country attacked.” I gave the screen a quick glance. I assumed it was a rerun of Independence Day and that the man mistakenly thought I’d be interested in the American blockbuster. I shrugged and turned my attention back to my email. The man couldn’t believe my indifference. And I couldn’t believe why his obsession with a mediocre movie had reached such intensity. After checking my email, I eyed the TV on my way out and thought, ‘Okay, it’s not Independence Day, but what new doomsday movie is that?’
Reality finally hit me in the lobby of the Funny Farm youth hostel. With the news blaring on a large screen in the corner, the gathering crowd anxiously murmured underneath it. Backpackers gathered around the TV, taking in the tragedy at different speeds, the planes impacting the World Trade Center on repeat; wreckage at the Pentagon and in a field in Pennsylvania. Before long, some of the two dozen in this internationally diverse room were crying. Others were drinking heavily. A surreal haze of uncertainty and despair hung around us. I distinctly recall a group of fast talking Kiwis to my left, snorting lines off the bar in plain view. Others prayed to their gods. The room was a mix of sobriety and escapism; pained silence and dissonant chaos.
Down the hall there was one busy pay phone, so I took my place in line. Some callers in front of me sobbed hysterically, others simply asked their loved ones if they were somewhere safe. It was the first thing my mom asked me: “Are you in a safe place?” My reply, “Switzerland”, sounded to me like the safest place on the planet. I wasn’t worried about myself, only those in the United States, especially those in New York City. At the time, nobody knew if there would be a second or third attack on another city. The world had changed in an instant. If planes could be flown into buildings in NYC, then anything could happen.
After the somber conversation with my mom, I returned to the lobby, where CNN showed politicians holding hands and pledging to unify against the murderous culprits. Suddenly I feared that the American military reaction would be rash and wildly disproportionate before all the facts were in — and they came in fast. Who was responsible for this heinous crime? The hijackers were members of al-Qaeda. Who had planned it all? Osama Bin Laden. Who was he? A high profile Islamic terrorist. Where was he? Afghanistan.
Ergo, said the emotionally-charged thinking of the day, the United States should hunt down al-Qaeda, their Taliban allies, and Bin Laden in Afghanistan. The official invasion commenced a few weeks later. George W. Bush pledged vengeance not only on those responsible, but against all terrorists and ‘those who harbour them’, which later misled the US into invading and occupying Iraq. Thus began the ‘War on Terror’ and, even with the botched withdrawal of US forces from Afghanistan 20 years later, this potentially endless war continues. Now appears to be the perfect time for American leaders to reflect on this sequence of events and revise their strategy on preventing global terrorism.
Maybe the question all Americans should be asking alongside ‘Where were you?’ is ‘Where are we now?’ and look at the disconnections between the crimes of 9/11 and the reactionary policy that immediately followed (and continues). Should we be engaged primarily in a War on Terror, or a War on Injustice? A war on poverty? A war on substandard education and health care? Maybe even a full scale, multi-lateral mobilization to save the planet from impending environmental catastrophe? The choice about which wars we should be prioritizing may be obvious to some, but many seem to prefer divisive chatter — blaming, disparaging, and lamenting one politically entrenched side or the other.
We all can remember, so maybe we should apply the “Never Forget” slogan to not only that one horrific day, but to the weeks, months and years that followed. Maybe we should employ our power of memory to help us better understand the context, effects, and multiple perspectives after that earth-shattering event. If not, then I’m afraid we will continue to learn nothing from the past.