|
 |
One
nation united in differences

Gerald Early on 9/11 and national unity

Source: Gerald
L. Early, Ph.D. - (314)
935-5576
Related: International
Writers Center biography

[St. Louis, Mo., 9-10-02] - Gerald
Early, Ph.D., the Merle Kling
Professor of Modern Letters at
Washington University and a frequent
essayist on American cultural
issues, comments below on national
unity and what it means to be
an American in the wake of 9/11.
One
nation united in differences

By Gerald L. Early, Ph.D.

(Reprinted with permission from
the St. Louis Post-Dispatch,
Sept. 8, 2002)

The tragedy of Sept. 11 has forced
many Americans to confront again
the familiar question: What does
it mean to be an American? The
question has perhaps acquired
a pitch of urgency as anti- Americanism
seems more virulent now, exceeding
even the anti- Americanism of
the Vietnam War era.
 |
| Gerald
L. Early, Ph.D. |
The
United States was visited, on
Sept. 11, by what is, virtually,
a commonplace in the modern world:
large-scale death and destruction
motivated by hatred. The fact
that we thought ourselves virtually
immune to such an attack because
of our power and our geographical
isolation uncovered a troubling
complacency. It was the product
of two unattractive states of
mind that have afflicted Americans'
sense of themselves: arrogance
and innocence.
How dare someone attack us; and,
in God's name, what have we done
that we should be attacked? We
Americans have often believed
it is possible to consider people
quite apart from the forces that
have produced them. This has sometimes
confounded our ability to understand
ourselves in any mature way. Our
moral simplicity as Americans
has often made it difficult for
us to understand how others see
us or themselves. Our optimism
and our success have convinced
the rest of the world that we
have no ability to u nderstand
tragedy, only a need to fix things.
The world considers us privileged
juveniles, alternately narrow-minded
and gluttonous. Sometimes, the
world has been right.
The Sept. 11 attack caused some
Americans to believe our culture
to be both fragile and superficial,
an unreal combination of contrived
desire and rabid status-seeking,
as we seem fixated on luxurious
possessions and dieting. Americans
may be as disliked by the rest
of the world for our narcissism
as for our seeming chauvinism,
and this narcissism is, to many
Americans, a sign of weakness.
But other aspects of our cultural
life became apparent after the
attacks: our tremendous sense
of volunteerism and moral duty,
our deep philanthropic urge, our
willingness to join and to organize.
We are not shallow people.
The left condemns Americans for
an inhumane foreign policy that
has been constricted by provincialism,
corrupted and controlled by huge
money interests and flawed by
racism. This has often been true,
but not always. The United States
has done things that were unwise,
even morally reprehensible at
times. But it is a distortion
to characterize the United States,
as some Marxists do, as an evil
country. We have, on several occasions,
tried to do good in the world
and sometimes even succeeded.
Yet I think the right is almost
certainly correct in saying that
the attack was not motivated by
some historical memory of a dastardly
U.S. intervention somewhere but
rather by more desperate, and
more irrational, expressions of
jealousy, hatred and anger. We
should take no false comfort in
this by demonizing our enemy as
our enemy has demonized us. Our
enemy is not a sect of organized
lunatics but a passionate movement
against Western liberalism of
some considerable reach and influence.
The attack was a symptom, not
the problem. Still, a war on terrorism
is quixotic (terrorism by states
is the true bane of the world)
and likely only a political gambit
to generate consensus to help
a weak president get re- elected.
Never was the atmosphere in the
United States more stifling, more
oppressive, than during the few
months immediately following the
Sept. 11 attack when President
George W. Bush enjoyed unnatural
popularity and no one dared breathe
a word of criticism for fear of
being labeled unpatriotic. That
phony consensus seemed to comfort
many Americans, striking some
oddly tuned chord of sentimentality
that, finally, the Vietnam generation
was going to get its Good War,
as The Greatest Generation had
with World War II. Thank goodness,
we seem to have awakened from
the fantasy that there are good
wars or that we are Humphrey Bogart
and Ingrid Bergman in "Casablanca."
American ideology is not simply
a belief in free markets and individual
rights, it is the belief in the
power of dissent. What makes America
the powerful and, I think, ultimately,
great nation that it is, is that
we have a roiling, fluid culture,
that we are a fairly divisive
people but we manage our divisions,
we learn to use the creative tensions
they provide. We are factions
and special interests, but we
understand the limitations of
our divisions as we understand
our need for them.
Belief in America is the idea
that there are many ways of seeing
what we are, and we need all those
ways of seeing. Many other nations
have not come close to learning
this. I hope the Sept. 11 tragedy
has taught us that this unity
in division might be the most
important aspect of what it means
to be an American.
|
|