| http://www.townhall.com/columnists/charleskrauthammer/ck20020906.shtml
9/11 was an act of war
Charles
Krauthammer
September 6, 2002
WASHINGTON--Whenever
I hear Sept. 11 referred to as just a tragedy, I wince. The San
Francisco Earthquake was a tragedy. The Johnstown Flood was a tragedy.
Hurricane Andrew was a tragedy. A tragedy is an act of God. Sept. 11 was
no act of God. It was an act of man. An act of war.
Yes, Sept. 11 occasioned many
tragedies--many terrible deaths, many terrible injuries, many terrible
sorrows. These tragedies elicit a deep compassion and a shared grief.
Which is why this coming Sept. 11 will be a day of compassion and grief;
of sorrow and remembrance; of celebration, too, of the courage and
sacrifice of the heroes of that day.
But we would pay such homage had the World Trade
Center and the Pentagon collapsed in an earthquake. They did not. And
because they did not, more is required than mere homage and respect. Not
just sorrow, but renewed anger. Not just consolation, but renewed
determination. And not, God help us, ``closure,'' that clarion call to
passivity and resignation, but open-ended action against those who
perpetrated Sept. 11 and those who would perpetrate the next Sept. 11.
The temptation on any anniversary is just to
look back. But on Dec. 7, 1942, the country did not just look back on
the sunken Arizona. It looked forward to the destruction of Japan.
Mourning alone cannot fully honor the murdered.
Justice must be done as well. The dead of last Sept. 11 cannot be
adequately honored unless we remember not just that they died, but at
whose hands they died. It means remembering that Sept. 11 was a
declaration of war, a war we did not seek but one we cannot avoid.
We would like to avoid it. We are tempted to see
the war on terrorism as, variously and alternately, won, unwinnable,
tangled, indecisive, self-defeating--anything that takes away its
immediacy and its urgency.
It is a healthy instinct in the American soul.
Despite the current braying of Europeans and Arabs, Americans are quite
averse to war. We have a history of doing what we can to avoid it.
It took three years for the United States to
enter World War I. It took a surprise attack to get us into World War
II. As for the Cold War, we refused even to face its reality until it
had been going on for two years. And after getting burned in Korea and
Vietnam, America reverted to form. If Saddam had not invaded Kuwait in
1990 and if we had not been dragged kicking and screaming into Kosovo,
we would now be celebrating the Thirty Years' Peace.
It stands to reason. A continental nation
protected by vast oceans and friendly neighbors has no great desire to
go abroad in search of monsters. This is why when Osama bin Laden and
radical Islam declared war on the United States in the 1990s, we ignored
it. We ignored the declaration as we ignored the provocations--the first
attack on the World Trade Center, the embassy bombings in Africa, the
attack on the USS Cole.
After each outrage, a grim president would
declare himself aggrieved and pledge not to rest until those responsible
were brought to justice. A few FBI agents would then be dispatched to
Yemen or some such, a few cruise missiles would land in some desert, and
soon he, and we, would return to our repose.
Sept. 11 was different. Yet so deep were these
pacific habits of thought that in the first hours high administration
officials reverted to the old language of crime, pledging to bring the
killers to justice. It soon became clear, however, that the challenge of
radical Islam was a matter not of law enforcement but of war. President
Bush's address to the Congress nine days later ratified that truth. This
time we would not just ``bring our enemies to justice.'' We would
``bring justice to our enemies.'' This was war. We would engage it.
This proposition was too obvious for anyone
serious to protest. No one serious did. The war in Afghanistan enjoyed
breathtakingly broad national support.
Yet here we are a year later, and things are
different. It doesn't feel like war. The very suddenness and relative
painlessness of the victory in Afghanistan, coupled with the fact that
at home no second shoe dropped, has helped return us to a state of
suspension, of confusion.
We feel the uncertainty. But our enemies do not.
Which is why the challenge of this Sept. 11 is to remember the feeling
of last Sept. 11. Not just the pain, but the danger. It endures. And so
it will until we have destroyed those who did the deed, those who
support them and those who would emulate them.
Read
Charles Krauthammer's biography
©2002
Washington Post Writers Group
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