9/11 Revisited: “As we act, let us not become the evils that we deplore”
This is a story I wrote about 9/11.
Despite being written almost 6 years ago, in the aftermath of the Paris Attacks of November 2015, I thought it is still worth-sharing. Perhaps now more than ever.
Prelude: On 8/31/2021, the United States finally withdrew its last troops from Afghanistan, effectively “ending” the Forever War. This disastrous attempt that resulted in a country in shambles completely overtaken by the Taliban in matter of hours, despite 20 years, trillions of dollars spent and hundreds of thousands of lives lost, and a “puppet” government that was never built to last, reminded many, myself included, of the end of Vietnam war and the Fall of Saigon in 1975. As a Vietnamese, I can’t help but feeling enraged at the irony of it all. “What the fuck was all that for if all could be destroyed in a matter of hours? A fucking joke, that’s what.”
The physical war in Afghanistan might be over, but the 60 words that authorized the use of force in the name of anti-terrorism is not. Today, on this 20th anniversary of the attacks on the Twin Towers, I would like to pay tribute to one of the best piece of Journalism (imho) on 9/11 - 60 words by Radiolab. They did a rerun of this episode today, which I highly recommend you listen to here. Just like how the original piece inspired me to write the story 6 years prior, the rerun made me want to resurface my old but relevant thoughts on 9/11 and the Forever War.
I wrote this piece with a heavy heart, dedicating to all my Afghan friends and their families whose lives are more uncertain and in more danger than ever. I’m so sorry that the US yet again created a mess that your country and her people do not deserve. It is not the first, and unfortunately will not be the last time the “best democracy in the world” would do so much harm in the name of something that’s supposedly good.
“As we act, let us not become the evils that we deplore”
We can only hope.
2015-11-15
Paris happened. So did 9/11.
You’d think an 11-year-old Vietnamese kid would be too carefree, young and far-away to remember that day. But I do.
Almost 10 years later, when asked: “what were you doing on the morning of 9/11” in our Political Science class at Brown, everyone of my American friends had a story to share. So did I.
It was the day after, as the attacks happened when Vietnam was still asleep. It was the Wednesday of our first week at the new school, and I had not made friends with everyone yet. As we gathered in front of our Math class, the topic of bonding was: “Did you see the helicopters on TV last night? Was it real? Who did it? How many times did you see it?”
“Will we be safe?”
It was the kind of buzz that even speedy social media of today could not compare. Everyone, every channel, every family dinner conversation was about it, for the next few weeks.
At that point, my connection with and understanding of America were limited to some books, Hollywood, and foreigners. But I felt truly sad, the kind of sadness that transcended rational understanding, basic proximity or passing time. As a human being, I felt for the firefighters, the desperate-for-life people jumping out of skyscrapers, the confused politicians. Vietnam used to be at War against America. But on that day, we united in pain and grief.
I remember six years later, on a full scholarship to rural India, to a school that’s bubbled, amazing, international as can be. My American friend, Evan, stood up during our Monday college’s meeting: “Let’s pay tribute to the victims of 9/11, guys.” Soon after, his request was met with divided reactions from our classmates. Some sympathized, myself included. But some questioned: “Why only victims of 9/11? What about the war in Sudan? What about Darfur? Who would mourn them ?”
Just months later, one of my best pals Urmila and I co-composed a song to pay tribute to the Darfur war’s refugees, it goes: “I don’t want to die. Though mine is not a perfect life. Though I am scared, I love my home and village. And I miss them, and I want to turn back time.”
So when France was attacked last Friday night, my heart sank, but my brain didn’t let my heart mourn in simplicity.
I spent hours that day discussing with my Muslim friends the hardest questions of them all, “why?” — Just to get even more questions.
My heart ached with complex, conflicted and irresolvable emotions and thoughts. But I’ve decided to write this for my 11-year-old self more than anyone else. It’s more brain than heart, but that’s what that girl needed. So here goes.
Only 1 person out of almost 500 congressmen and women voted “no” on the day Bush had to sign the Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF). This 60-word long document, signed on September 18, 2001, was to be the basic legal justification for the “War on Terror”, waged on any group or individual that “planned, authorized, committed or aided” the attacks on 9/11. That is, everyone who was even remotely related to Taliban, Al-Queda and co., even 5 or 6 links away, was to be put on TSA’s Watchlist.
Almost 3000 died in 9/11. The 19 hijackers were all dead that day. The guy behind it was killed too, years later. But so would almost 200,000 Iraqi civilians through out the 10-year long war that would cost America 3 trillion dollars by the year 2020 and another 3 trillion dollars by 2053. Did America over-react? Yes. Was it costly? Absolutely. Could America have reacted any differently? Not sure. The whole world was confused, but none could rationally stop a mourning nation full of hurt people from doing something.
In her September 14 speech explaining why she voted “no” on war, Congresswoman Barbara Lee quoted the clergyman’s opening speech: “As we act, let us not be the evil that we deplore.” No one listened to her that day.
There are 1.6 billion people that practice Islam by 2015. Most of them you will never meet, but you would wish you could. You will befriend some during school and work, and you will admire some along the way. They are peaceful, devoted, and respectful. In fact, you will hang out with some when Paris happened. They will be as hurt as as you are, possibly even more, “because the terrorists do things #notinmyname. Because terrorism has no religion,” — they would say.
25 states, that is, half of America, refused to take in Syrian refugees, in the wake of the Paris attacks, against Federal ruling. Why did these people have to run away in the first place? Well, everybody is to blame.
In times like this, I want to recite that incredibly brave and wise sentence spoken by America’s Anti-war hero Barbara Lee again. She was black, Christian, and a woman. She was the only one voted no on America’s War on Terror.
“As we act, let us not become the evil that we deplore.”
